


In the Crosshairs

by Dragon_Voldemort



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AO3 Tags - Freeform, Abduction, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Angst, Blood, Blow Jobs, Bodily Fluids, Castration, Coercion, Condoms, Death, Drama, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Exhibitionism, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Explosives, F/M, Fetish, Fivesome - M/M/M/M/M, Flirting, Food, Foursome - F/F/M/M, Framed, Framed Harry, Fred Weasley Lives, Fred/George Sex, Friendship, Gen, Ginny Weasley Bashing, Ginny/Colin - Freeform, Graphic Depictions of Adult Situations, Gratuitous Smut, Harry/Ginny Sex, Harry/Hermione Sex, Harry/Katie Sex, Harry/Ron Sex, Hermione/Neville - Freeform, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Hogwarts Sixth Year, In Public, Incest, Kinks, Loss of Virginity, Marriage, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Minor Character Death, Muggle/Wizard Relations, Myrtle/Other, Mystery, NSFW, Naked Travel, Neville/Hermione Encounters, Non-Canon Main Character, Non-Consensual, Nudism, Nudity, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyjuice Potion, Pregnancy, Pubic Hair, Public Display of Affection, Public Nudity, Public Sex, Rimming, Romance, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Ron/Ginny Sex, Scat, Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual exploration, Shameless Smut, Shower Sex, Slow Build, Smut, Suicide, Suspense, Teen Angst, Teen Pregnancy, Teen Romance, Teen Sex, Teenagers, Threesome - F/M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, Torture, Vaginal Sex, Vibrators, Violence, Voyeurism, Watersports, kinky smut, long story, lots of smut, neville/luna - Freeform, pissing, smutmas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2003-05-28
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 07:28:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 61
Words: 422,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15903684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_Voldemort/pseuds/Dragon_Voldemort
Summary: Death Eaters strike BACK! Order of the Phoenix is declared a terrorist organization. Can Harry and his friends survive the viscous onslaught of slander, frameups, death, and destruction? Can they even hope to fight it? Post-GoF 6th & 7th year R/Hr





	1. Chasers

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [When Things Start to Change](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/414696) by Hermione-G-Weasley. 
  * Inspired by [Red and Green Patches](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/414699) by Dragon Voldemort. 



> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fanfiction written for personal enjoyment and entertainment. Harry Potter, its character, and its respective elements are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling.
> 
> DISCLAIMER II: This fanfiction includes some minor elements from another fanfiction, "When Things Start to Change," as that was the inspiration to the my first story, "Red and Green Patches". 
> 
> This story is the SEQUEL to "Red and Green Patches", both started in 2003 BEFORE the release of "Order of the Phoenix". It's publish date here has been adjusted to reflect the same date as on FF.net, however, it is still a work in progress as of 2018. The "clean" version is there, at https://www.fanfiction.net/s/1362834/1/In-the-Crosshairs. 
> 
> This story is an AU (alternate universe) ending to the series; it treats as canon books one through four (SS/PS, CoS, PoA, & GoF); some character, spells, and other elements are taken from OotP, HBP, and DH. Differences from those later books will become apparent. 
> 
> WARNINGS: This is the ADULT version of the story, it goes into deeper/grittier detail than the "clean" version; especially in the areas of exhibitionism and sexual behavior, you've been warned.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Primary relationships are Harry/Gia, Ron/Hermione; however, others will be explored and/or touched upon. These include, but are not restricted to, Ginny/Colin, Harry/Ginny*, Ron/Harry*, Gia/Hermione*, Neville/Luna, Hermione/Neville*, Percy/OC, Charlie/OC.
> 
> * are in the adult version only, these are NOT explored to any depth (aside from one prank) in the clean version on FF.net.
> 
> Discord Server: https://discord.gg/SNwE8Q8

“Every guest in this Hall,” said Dumbledore, and his eyes lingered upon the Durmstrang students, “Will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again—in light of Lord Voldemort’s return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemort’s gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can only fight it by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.” [ GoF, Ch37 ]

Upon the stone dais, without benefit of support, stood a stone arch; an arch, from which, was draped the Veil of Death, within the Department of Mysteries, in the basement of the Ministry for Magic. An unnatural invisible smoke, a smoke that any living soul would feel like fingernails scraping across a chalkboard, a smoke that offended every hair in the nostrils, drifted upward from the curtain, for beneath it, perched on the edge of death, was a simmering cauldron over black flame. Floating in the foul smelling and boiling goo were a pair of gray eyes, both blinking and staring at a naked Hermione, as if pleading for a life fleeting away. Hermione, bound, gagged, dripping droplets of pee between her legs, and tied to a stone column, only gave a look of scorn, of judgment against those eyes, before moving her eyes away. Also bound and naked, beside Hermione, was her best living friend, love interest to another good friend, Gia, who paid no attention to the eyes in the cauldron, but instead, at the snake like red eyes of the figure beside the cauldron, the one scooping out the green acid–like substance into a goblet. He swirled the cup.

“Behold!” Voldemort exclaimed, “The Elixir of Immortality!”

* * *

**Two years earlier…**

It started all so innocently, that hot summer after their fifth year, the heat of the day was just beginning. Instead of Harry going to the Dursleys, he had decided to tap his inheritance, treat his friends to a trip across Europe, to travel to Romania and back.

We start on this Monday morning, the first of July, in the county of Devon, just outside the village of St. Ottery, at a dilapidated and impossible building of the Burrow. Outside this building, Crookshanks chased a rat around the pond. Smoke billowed out of the kitchen window instead of the chimney; an open window framed Fred’s blackened, soot covered, face. Bees buzzed as they went among the flowers and foliage of the garden. Gnomes frolicked in the garden. Dressed in emerald green robes, Professor McGonagall apparated and approached the front door.

However, in the uppermost bedroom, just below the attic, were four teenagers still asleep on the pair of beds. A glow was illuminating the bedroom in spite of the best efforts of the faded _Chudley Canons_ curtains to shield the occupants from the Sun that was in the sky and threatening to pass them by. A breeze came through the window and moved the curtains, which let rays of light reach inside, their tendrils hitting the occasional metal. Pigwidgeon’s cage was empty as the bird paid more attention to the start of the day than any of the four sleeping teenagers. On one bed were Ron and Hermione; the other was Harry and Gia, a Muggle girl and Harry’s girlfriend.  1

An uncomfortable tug, and Ron was the first to open his eyes. Naked and on the bed, he pulled the sheet from Hermione, leaning on him from his left, covering them both; his firm tent pole remained even though Hermione’s fidgeting hand kept grabbing at his red curly pubic hair.

Snorts and moans came from the other bed in the room; as that couple turned, dragging their white sheet cover, until only Harry’s left leg was left to the imagination and Gia was behind him, as they too were naked. Harry’s teeth chattered as he peed and drenched the bottom sheet, her left arm moved over his shoulder, her fingers stroked his ear, and he calmed down. Above them, the rays of the early morning sun helped the myriad of _Chudley Canons_ posters continue in their fading.

Creaks from the door, and it opened, rapidly, revealing Ginny, with her wet red hair and a towel in her hands that did nothing to hide her knickers nor her pussy behind the hole of her panties. A quick glance at Harry and study of his soft todger, before Ginny’s eyes met Ron’s staring back, with her shrewd guess to the state beneath the sheets, which wouldn’t be a surprise as she had seen Rita Skeeter’s photograph, the one that had caught Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Gia all skinny dipping in a hot tub.

“Twat—” Ron started.

“Dickhead—” Ginny replied.

Hermione snorted, twitched, and rolled over; her hand had caught the sheet enough to pull it off of Ron. Ginny’s eyes fell down to her brother’s display of sexual prowess; first at his scrotum covered testicles, then up the ridge of the shaft partially blocking the pubic hair up to where his foreskin met the slit of his glans supporting a small bead of clear liquid, a bit that wasn’t ever quite covered. A grin spread across Ginny’s face.

“Bug off—no butchers—” Ron said.

“Dishy bollocks—” Ginny’s eyes darted at Harry’s loose todger before they returned to Ron.

“Not of your concern,” Ron said, “Scram—” He threw some old stained boxers at Ginny.

“Banging bobby!” Ginny dashed in, tripped to the floor, stared from inches away at Harry’s stiffening penis, the erection springing out fast.

“You’ll pay!” Ron threatened, “We’re trying to sleep—fuck off you gormy—”

“It’s time to—” In a quick action, Ginny snapped her towel, hitting Ron in the bollocks.

“Ow!” A quick recoil, then Ron sprang up, holding his bruised bollocks under his stiffy, darted as fast as he could after Ginny. “Beastly arse—you’re dead!”Ron used his hands against the walls, leapt stairs after stairs, his hard dick swaying, as he chased Ginny.

“He’s coming!” Ginny shouted.

“What—?!” Ron stammered as he came out into the living room.

Click!

Despite the floating spot from the bright flash of light, the entire room came into focus faster than Ron could respond.

“I was hoping for Harry,” Colin said, his camera sank down from his bare chest toward the elastic of his white briefs.

Professor McGonagall, who was just talking to Arthur Weasley in his pin strip suit, turned toward Ron. Her wits fought to balance etiquette with curiosity,the wits surrendered for a short moment as the brilliant fluffy golden rod pubic hair ensnared her instincts to examine the fully primed teenager, whose erection jutted outward and exposed the soft pink glans with its characteristic slit. After a quick study of the faithful wingmen dangling loose underneath, her wits reconquered and her eyes rapidly moved up the pubic trail to the naval, across the bare chest to face blushing with embarrassment and trembling brilliant blue eyes.

“Showing your talent off?” Fred whispered at Ron.

While everybody else focused upon Ron and his rock hard erection on display, Ron spotted Fred parting the front of the bathrobe. Only the right side, with only a fringe of pubic hair showing, only enough for the wand tip beside the hip to be clearly aimed at Ron. Fred muttered and Ron felt the tremor in his shaft. Colin’s camera snapped back up to the face, aimed as the relaxing spasms and urges traveled through Ron’s shank of flesh. An eternity passed for Ron, but fast enough to be paralyzed from any recourse as he felt his boyish magma swell and surge along his column as it raced for the tip.

Click!

The lava passed the exit.

Click!

The camera kept taking pictures as the orgasm kept up, his pearly white juice squirted out from the magical pressure.

Click!

Encouraged to go the distance, the first and long shot of semen leapt the yard and half needed to cling on the billowing green robes of McGonagall.

Click!

Quivering continued, albeit with less force, and his ejaculation flowed.

Click!

The second surge traveled a foot.

Click!

While the magic was forcing every bit of sperm out, every bit of sperm to parade in the show, the force decreased and the stream of semen tapered off to become a stream that dribbled out of, and waterfall off of, his slit. His scrotum contracted slightly to reveal a softer and more intricate skin.

Click!

Gryffindor courtesy finally hinted to Professor McGonagall to distract the attention away for her embattled student.

“The Hogwarts Board of Governors has elected to reward your efforts in freeing the school at the end of last term, please extend their gratitude to your friends,” Professor McGonagall said, “I have given your father the details of their generosity. I will look forward to seeing you in the fall.”

Professor McGonagall turned around and went out the door.

“Oh,” George said, “She’ll definitely look forward to seeing you after this display—”

George, wearing only a sweat soaked Weird Sisters T–shirt that was too small to hide anything besides his naval, gripped his flaccid penis.

“Whatever’s left,” Ginny said, grinning.

Ron turned around for the stairs.

“Get his ass!” Ginny said.

Ron, with a bit still dribbling to contribute to the long strand off his softening dick, ran for the stairs, the pendulum swung.

Click!

“Ginevra—” Arthur said.

“Family photographs,” Ginny said with a fake tone of innocence.

Ron climbed the stairs. He couldn’t believe it, ready to bang and spewing in front of Professor McGonagall, of all people! With the thoughts of that and that camera, Ron reentered his bedroom, closed the door, and slid down it. He glanced around at the friendly faces. First it was Hermione, with her busy brown hair, her brown blinking eyes, her knockers, the firm midriff, and the hair covered folds around her vagina denoting her femininity. Then Gia, with her blond hair and blue eyes, her voluptuous knockers that ensnared his other friend. Finally, Harry, the scrawny figure whose skin was too tight for his bones, with the green eyes looking back at Ron. All three returned the glances, kept their eyes on him, as he sat on his arse, back against the door, knees in the air and spread, his dick hung against the scrotum, the flap resting at the base of his crotch.

“Exciting—” Harry muttered.

“Shove it,” Ron snapped. “That git…”

Ron glanced at the cracks of the floorboard, the ones that could occasionally show Ginny in the light he’d rather not see, when a quick thought came through his head. Nobody in the room missed out as he let a short burst of liquid dribble out of his dick.

“Ron—” Hermione started.

“It’s his room,” Harry said, seeing the green tinge in his friend’s face.

With that, Ron’s morning rush started, the pee hit the floorboards, the liquid drained through the cracks.

“You ran after her like that,” Hermione said, “What’d you expect—”

“Cameras? Fred or George? McGonagall? Dad?” Ron said as his loose penis spurted and squirted out more piss, “Can’t believe—”

“I’d like a copy of those snaps,” Hermione said as she sat next to Ron, she cupped his scrotum.

“What—?!” Ron exclaimed.

“Wank for them—” Harry asked.

“He already did,” Hermione said as she felt Ron’s bollocks.

“You camp,” Ron snapped.

“Likely thinking about McGonagall—” Harry said.

Ron snorted. “No way! She was appreciative about our last adventure.” Elbows to the knees, he looked down. “Mum won’t find out, she can’t—”

“Being dead…” Harry started, he stopped, figuring it wasn’t good to talk about the recently deceased Mrs. Weasley.2

Ron glared at Harry before the eyes got caught up in watching as leopard spots formed and danced on Harry’s skin.

“Hmm,” Gia said, “I could dig this.”

“Went on the pull ‘arry and—” Ron said.

“Watch it,” Hermione said, “She’s my friend too, so don’t demean Harry’s girlfriend—”

“Or what—” Ron demanded.

“Hey shirty,” Gia said, “Hermione’ll likely stop being yours. Swot your stuff if you need to understand what you’d be wanking solo.”

“What do you think?” Ron said, “Like always, Mr. and Mrs. Founders of your stupid unofficial fan club wanted your signed starkers photograph along with your perspective on shagging—that twerp diddled her boyfriend onto me!”

Ron blew off.

“We do need to get moving.” Gia grabbed Harry’s bum.

Harry groaned and got up. Gia sat up.

“One at a time for the khazi,” Ron said.

“That’s your Mum’s—” Hermione said.

“She may be dead,” Ron said, “but this is still her house—we need to abide.”

“Never cared before—” Harry said.

“I do now,” Ron stated.

Harry gave Gia a nudge; she grabbed a towel, waited for Ron to move aside, and went out. Ron pushed to get up.

“They’re already—” Hermione started.

“It’s going to blow—” Ron said as he gripped his buttocks.

“You expect the khazi—”

“Rather I do it in here?” Ron stated.

Hermione kept the door open, though her eyes drifted and she watched through the floorboards as Ron started to sit on one of Ginny’s cauldrons.

‘Immature!’ Hermione shook her head as the first of Ron’s bowel movements landed. ‘As private as Waterloo!’

Up the stairs came George, with his soaked white Weird Sisters T–shirt, he paused at the landing and saw Hermione looking back through the cracked door.

“May I?” George asked.

“Losing cause for any—” Hermione opened the door.

“Privacy is an illusion,” George said as he entered. He closed the door and looked down at Hermione, his genitals hung right in front of her until he stepped back and leaned against the dresser. He crossed his legs, where his T–shirt still failed to even hide the naval, and adjusted his scrotum.

“Ron and Harry—” Hermione warned from her sitting position.

George snorted and finger–combed his red pubic hair.

“Although we joke about it,” George said, “You’re family—any Weasley lying causes the penis to go blue —”

Hermione snorted.

“It’s true—it’s much harder to lie with the dick exposed,” George said, “As you can tell, it’s definitely not a foot long.”

Hermione laughed as George pulled a ruler alongside his penis, showed it to be less than three inches; his loose scrotum allowed his bollocks to dangle at four.

“Anyways, I was hoping to apologize to Ronald, we did sort of go overboard—”

“Did Professor McGonagall—”

George nodded. “Full discharge with a sample.”

“No wonder Ron’s—”

“Not that it wasn’t hilarious to watch,” George said, “Ginny figured you sleeping starkers and wanted to lure Harry for a picture—I think she still has a crush—Ron came instead and Fred—need I say more?”

Hermione laughed.

George turned for the door and cracked it open; but then turned around.

“Oh—it is clothing optional,” George said.

“Oh really?” Hermione replied, not believing that Mrs. Weasley would have tolerated this.

“Mum didn’t object to Fred’s declaration this morning—”

“Of course,” Hermione said.

George took a glance at Hermione’s nipples and his snake started to slither upward.

“You are a beautiful witch—” George tumbled backward down the stairs.

“You…?!” Ron gave George a shove to assist the tumble; he closed the door.

“Ron!” Hermione scolded.

“Lemme see.” Ron rested his chin on the fist he raised to it. “Compliments while his todger—”

“He was explaining—” Hermione said as she stood.

“Really?!” Ron leaned on the ledge in front of the window, the garden gnomes studied the dick. “He’s fed other girls the same codswallop.”

“He wasn’t coming on—” Hermione wrapped her arms from behind him.

“He’s good,” Ron said, “I’m not letting him assault you—you’re better than that.”

“He mentioned clothing optional—”

“Mum couldn’t afford—I mean wasn’t fond of cooling charms,” Ron said, “On hot days, she tolerated—I mean let us be a bit free spirited—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hermione said as her hands combed Ron’s pubic hair.

“Malfoy’s right, too many mouths to feed,” Ron said.

“You’re listening to him?” Hermione asked as her fingers twiddled his dangling todger, “Took your time earlier—”

“Whatever Fred’s charm was—” Ron smiled. “Let’s just say it was effective, best dump ever.”

Hermione pumped on the dick as it started firming up under the sunshine of the window.

“Fred knew his curse,” Ron said, “It’s a bit dry—”

“Pity.” Hermione let go of his column.

“Penises only get one shot at a time.” Harry finished entering, Gia behind him. “Though a second attempt is welcome.”

Hermione snorted.

Meanwhile, Ginny laid where she always laid after being yelled at, on the landing of the stairs, the one right above the ceiling of the living room, behind the plant that her knickers and panties where strewn onto. Conversations she was not supposed to hear had a knack of softening up the hardness of the pathetically carpeted wood. However, the juice had already dried up when the loitering paid off. For steps came down the stairs and she looked up, she caught a better look at the youth than she had in years — she had occasionally seen Harry come down in briefs, but this time he had outdone himself.

Unable to wick the heat away fast enough, Harry had dressed lighter than lightly, very light—stark naked. Ginny quickly and quietly slipped her finger to press in between the folds of her labia; she pressed and activated the magic finger vibrator, a gift from Fred—a field test for a new gadget, that she had kept there. Slit in view, Harry’s loose dick came downward with his steps, he walked through her fantasies. Ron came down, fast, zoomed past Harry, which let Ginny get a good view of Harry’s bum with the backside of his scrotum dangling loosely underneath. If it were not for the vibrator’s silencing charm, her moans from her orgasm would have been heard.

Downstairs, the kitchen table was already prepared much earlier; however, the food was being kept warm, by Dobby, who was on loan for that summer, for Professor Dumbledore thought it would help the Weasley family cope with the sudden and tragic loss of their matriarch, Molly Weasley, several weeks earlier.

Charlie was already sitting at the long table, no plate in front of him; instead, he was reading Students Rid Hogwarts of Dark Squatters in the prior day’s Daily Prophet that was up in his hands. Fred was hunched over the sink, his hands were busy, when Harry and Ron came into the kitchen. Charlie glanced over the paper’s edge at the naked wizards as neither Ron nor Harry had bothered to dress. Charlie was appreciative of his habit that he was wearing boxers, out of habit in the Burrow, as it helped shield his growing sausage; he put the paper down toward his lap, to help conceal the growth beneath the cloth.

Bottle green eyes scanned the paper, not noticing Charlie’s surveying him back. Charlie studied the loose and long penis dangling just across the table, a penis that was freshly urinated with its uncut tip and a slight rightward bent, the left testicle dangling loose and lower than the right, all free beneath the thick, dark, black pubic hair that had been kept trimmed under Gia’s watch. Charlie felt the dry orgasm in his own erection, understood the excitement as he tried to memorize the vein pattern in Harry’s foreskin.

“At least you’ll be able to properly floss with your curly—” Fred said to Ron, as he pulled on his pubics.

“Shove it,” Ron said, “Like you’re up to anything good—”

“I don’t hear Mum complaining,” Fred said.

Harry snorted as he sat down, bollocks dangling off the edge of the chair.

“That’s because she can’t,” Charlie said.

“Dickhead had something to do—” Fred said.

“It’s not his fault,” Charlie said, “Impressive what they accomplished, single handedly vanquishing You–Know–Who and lot from Hogwarts—”

“Where’s George?” Ron asked.

“Getting ready to prank your room,” Fred said, smiling as he visibly massaged his dick into an erection.

Ron glared.

“Pass the syrup,” Harry said.

It flew down the table into Harry’s hand.

“Dobby happy to serve Harry Potter. Dobby hopes Harry Potter is pleased with meal.”

“Yeah, Ta,” Harry said.

Dobby vanished.

“Mum dies and you take off—” Ginny exclaimed, coming into the kitchen.

Harry glanced up from his food; the girl was standing on her tippy toes, while glaring at Ron, but ensuring that her freshly shaved and waxed labia was slightly parted, giving Harry a closeup view.

“Haven’t you done enough—?!” Ron demanded.

“Family comes—” Ginny said.

“Shove it!” Ron snapped.

Harry took a second look at Ginny’s partition between her folds; inside, he could see the magical vibrator. Her smile, when she looked at him, hinted that the vibrator was active.

“Ronald Weasley,” Arthur said, coming into the kitchen, “Mind your manners!”

Ginny crossed her arms, her ears went green, her face went red. She glared at Ron, ignoring his exposure.

“This is family,” Arthur said, “However, if Ron wishes to spend his summer like this, that’s his decision to make.”

“You have to excuse her Ron,” Fred said as he motioned a masturbatory stroke of his dick, “She wanted more pictures—”

“Definitely not!” Ron exclaimed.

“Stay safe on the trip,” Arthur said, “All of you.”

“Thank you Mr. Weasley,” Harry said.

Arthur Weasley returned to the living room, where he was keeping an eye on Edward Weasley, the latest addition, born to Molly and Arthur back in April. In the meanwhile, Fred took a quick step back from the sink.

“Trouble?” Ginny asked.

“See for yourself,” Fred said, grinning.

Ginny turned on the tap, and then fell. Out of the faucet, instead of water, streams of butterflies came out, swarming and filling up the room.

“Hello Mr. Finnigan,” came Arthur’s voice, “Come on in.”

Harry and Ron looked to see Seamus Finnigan coming through the door. Seamus was wearing a loose yellow T–shirt that billowed over the tight pair of red briefs. Seamus glanced at the red and the black sets of pubic hair.

“Late morning, eh?” Seamus said, looming over the table.

“Why should they stress themselves out?” Ginny said as she left the room.

“Happy couple,” Seamus said, his eyes followed Colin and Ginny climbing the stairs.

“Especially when they’re ambushing others,” Ron said.

Seamus snorted and glanced about.

“There is plenty of room,” Charlie said as he studied the crotch bulge of Seamus’ briefs, “And even more outside.”

“I’m already hot,” Seamus said.

Harry grabbed his cup of water, stood next to Seamus. Seamus fidgeted for a moment before he reached his arms over and pulled off his shirt.

“Better?” Harry asked.

“Mind?” Seamus tugged at the hem of his briefs.

“You’re asking me?” Charlie said, “Do mind the heat though.”

Harry, however, had already gripped the fabric.

“Unless you visited just to whine about the heat—” Charlie started.

“Alright.” Seamus dropped his briefs, blushed as his dick was now exposed.

“Now that the Daily Prophet caught your backside—” Seamus said as they left the Burrow.

Ron snorted.

“Any advice for us poorer bastards?” Seamus said, “Dean is absolutely livid. Suppose Professor McGonagall came to see you about OWLs—”

“She saw a bit more—” Harry said, his hand pulled on his dick.

“Shut it!” Ron said, “I’ll kill—”

“How does Hermione like your double dating—” Seamus asked.

“We already have full OWLs—” Ron said.

“What—?!” Seamus exclaimed.

“We tested after the little affair…” Harry said.

“Bit campy—” Seamus said, doing a slow stroke of his erection.

Ron tackled Seamus, both falling into the mud of the pond.

“Sto—” Harry started.

Seamus grabbed Harry’s ankle, Harry fell in onto them. Harry peed across Seamus’ chest. Ron mudded up Harry’s butt crack.

“Trying a return?” Seamus asked.

“Payback,” Harry said as he muddied up Seamus’ genitals, covering them. A circumcised erection slithered out, escaping the mud, leaving Seamus hard.

“Hold him,” Ron said, squatting over Seamus’ face.

“No, no!” Seamus exclaimed as sludge moved out of Ron’s ass, pooping.

“He likes it,” Harry said, massaging the fulcrum of Seamus’ cock.

“No I don’t,” Seamus said as his dick sputtered out its first volley, the white of the orgasm, spewing out semen.

“Yes he does,” Ron said.

“Disgusting,” Seamus said, “Harry’s next!”

Ron moved, pinned Harry to the ground as Seamus bared the anus. They kept doing their ones and twos, until they were covered in mud and sitting in the green muck on the shore of the pond. A bit later, after even more talking, Seamus stood.

“I would’ve loved to see Snape’s face with your Order of Merlin, First Class,” Seamus said. He then left.

Harry and Ron returned to the Burrow, where Gia met them both with a hose.

* * *

Noigate3 was a community south of London, where Hermione’s parents lived, where she called home during her days away from Hogwarts. Inside one of these homes, the four teenagers, two at a time, stepped out of a fireplace, into the living room. Harry and Gia went up the stairs, came back down a few moments later. 

Hermione rolled her eyes at the sight of Harry. Harry had an open mesh white tank top, leaving his hairy arm pits exposed, and a band of skin where it failed to meet his yellow open mesh jockstrap, the contours and general shades of his genitals were showing. Gia had the smallest of bikinis, quarter sized sand dollars covered the nipples, conformal strip of cloth hinted strongly at the erect clitoris beneath, while managing to keep the exact colors as a mystery. Sandals were on both pairs of feet.

“Going out like that?” Hermione asked.

“Like these are any more comfortable,” Harry said, “It’s still icky!”

“Need to see my Dad,” Gia said, “We’ll be back some time later.”

Harry and Gia left Hermione’s house, and walked. They passed through a number of neighborhoods, going through parks, over streams, along the paths, to cross the odd street here and there.

Some noticed their mesh clothes.

“You’re practically starkers,” Gia said, giggling after she glanced at Harry through a polished motorcar bumper.

Both knew it, both lying to each other that their garments left more to the imagination than they did. Harry’s jockstrap mesh merely suspended his genitals, his black pubic hair, the scrotum, and the dick laying to the side were plainly visible, even the tip to his foreskin could readily be seen as bits were already pushing through; his butt crack visible to all behind him. Gia’s two piece green mesh bikini was just as suggestive, nipples showing, the gap as her vagina was torqued partially open.

“Wish you were,” Harry said, his penis partially aroused, it moved a bit beneath the mesh.

They turned onto James Lane, the street of Gia’s family residence. Only, there was no real house on the lot, the house that her father, Kevin Prescott, had inherited from her grandfather, as they could not have afforded that detached home otherwise. Now, though, the house was missing, even as the birds among the trees did not know the difference. For the house had been demolished, destroyed, by Death Eaters several months earlier. In its place was a small RV parked in the driveway.

“What the—?!” Gia exclaimed.

“Hi Gia,” said a jogging man as he approached and came to a stop.

This man was Bob Johnson, the neighbor across the street. The remaining wisps of his hair were combed over attempting to masquerade his near baldness.

“Thought Dad was crashing at your—” Gia said.

“Had to kick him out,” Bob said, “Another relapse—it endangers us.”

Gia rolled her eyes. She had seen her father kick his drug habit off and on through the years. To her, he would drink on occasion, that had been forever, but the pot and beyond, those started with the death of her mother so many years ago.

“You’re welcome though,” Bob said.

“Going on a trip for the summer,” Gia said, “Might take you up come school.”

With a glance at the threat of an erection in Harry’s yellow mesh jock strap, Bob just grinned before he resumed jogging onto another lap.

“Brace yourself, Harry,” Gia said.

Harry and Gia approached the shaking RV. She knew this meant Dad was drunk after getting fired for the umpteenth time, it wouldn’t have been the first time. Gia reached for the door, but it swung hard and fast, just missing her. In the doorway was Gia’s step–mum, Ane, shaking with a bottle in one hand and a cigarette in the other, she glared fiercely at Gia. Harry stepped in front of Gia, attempting to shield, as Ane flicked a burning ember at Gia. The ember melted the left strap of his mesh tank top, falling enough to leave his nipple exposed.

“Blimey! Another whore?!” Ane shouted, “You stink! Fucking accident! Think your Mum even wanted you? Old man wants a bang—”

Ane stumbled, lunged for Gia. Harry reacted, moved Gia as he replaced her spot, moving her to the side. Ane grabbed at Harry as she fell, her fingernails snagged his shirt first, pulling it down, and his jockstrap, sending the garments to the ground as she hit the pavement, leaving him naked.

“Fucking John!” Ane said, “He’s saving you for himself! What’d he offer? Place in the beggar queue?”

At first, Gia’s attention was drawn into the RV, where her Dad was busy banging some young meat. As Harry turned, he stepped on a discarded needle, breaking it; his hand gripped Gia’s shoulder, turned her away.

“You don’t deserve that,” Harry said, “Let’s go.”

“Can we see Richard first?” Gia asked.

Harry reached down, grabbed his clothes, and used them as a shield in front of him.

“Um…” Harry muttered as they left.

“Just avoid a copper,” Gia said.

“Sorry,” Harry muttered.

“If you weren’t comfortable—” Gia started.

“Giving it a try,” Harry said, “Dunno…exhilarating but a bit of nerves.”

“Shy?”

Harry nodded.

“Silly?”

Harry snorted.

“You could put those back on,” Gia said.

Harry shook his head as they came to a park. Despite there being some other younger kids there, they went in; stood next to a double wide swing.

“Why bother hiding?”

Both Harry and Gia turned, where one of her classmates was standing. Richard was bare chested with blue plain boxer shorts.

“Um—” Harry stuttered.

“Like these did anything,” Gia said, grabbing the clothes in Harry’s hands, she pulled them away and dropped them.

“If we’re insisting,” Harry said, reaching for her bikini top.

Gia simply smiled as Harry pulled the little bits away from her, leaving her standing naked. Harry blushed as his dick swelled, stiffening, into the hard erection facing her.

“You’re cute and handsome,” Gia said.

“Going domestic?” Richard asked.

“Let’s shout out that I’ve got a tent pole!” Harry snapped as he sat on the swing.

Eyes followed Harry, trained on him.

“Health and safety would likely give you an on–the–spot penalty for overdressing,” Richard said.

Gia snorted as she sat on Harry’s left, on the double wide swing.

“Besides I thought you enjoyed—” Richard said.

“Hiking—” Harry said as he started to pump the swing, “It wasn’t a show.” Harry referred to a bit of nude hiking that he and Gia had experimented with the past spring.

Harry kept both hands on the rope. Gia leaned into his left arm, her left gripped the rope while her right started to massage the dick.

“You do remember who my Mum is? The Chief Constable around here?” Richard said, “I overheard her, as it’s too hot, they’re not going to bother about being…skimpy. They’d rather not have the heat–related calls. Don’t know how far—”

“Umm…” Harry then realized that he had slowed down on the swing and a small crowd had formed, all watching as Gia stroked. Harry hadn’t intended to demonstrate, but his todger had other plans. He felt the surge as the eyes studied his shaft and loose scrotum, a scrotum that was freely hanging his balls over the edge of the seat, balls that condensed in preparation. Grins were shown as the first shot flew forth, Harry’s orgasm launched the pearly white liquid into the air. Gia kept her strokes as the liquid came out of his spring, the bead flowed out of his slit, cascaded down the groove, and waterfalled off the fulcrum on the underside. The sand beneath them worked to absorb the evidence. A copper, patrolling the playground in the distance, ignored the display and kept on moving.

“I suppose you have to rape somebody,” Richard said, “Until then—”

“Thanks,” Harry stated, dryly.

Richard pulled his boxers back up as they started to drop. Harry’s own dick reasserted itself, the glans soaked in the semen.

“I have to use—” Gia started.

“Can I watch?” Harry asked.

“Um…” Gia said, “I meant—”

Harry’s hand dropped to her shaved pubic and he felt into her vulva. His erection returned.

“Harry…” Gia muttered.

“Just relax, alright?” Harry parted her folds. “Just relax.”

Gia calmed a bit and a stream came out, from a trickle to a jet. Richard blushed a deep red as his firm flesh poked out of the front of the boxers, instincts overriding the sense of honor. Harry ran his left hand into the golden trail, guiding the backwash onto himself.

“That’s disgusting,” Richard said.

“Fair play,” Gia said, “Besides, it interested you too.”

“Huh?” Harry muttered.

“My place?” Richard asked.

Harry and Gia followed.

“Going to move on Jen?” Gia asked, “Have you asked?”

“Maybe…soon,” Richard said, taking the bait, “Still need to ask.”

“Ask her,” Gia said, “Ask before some other guy takes her.”

“Care for another hike this weekend?” Richard asked.

“We’ve got…plans,” Gia said.

“Bring Jen,” Harry suggested.

“What plans?” Richard asked.

“A trip, leaving for Europe tomorrow,” Gia said.

“Done with the packing?” Richard asked.

“Not quite,” Gia said.

“Pack in the morning,” Harry said.

“Let’s get back,” Gia replied.

Harry sighed, they turned, went back for Hermione’s.

* * *

It was late when Harry slipped into the bathtub in the upstairs bathroom; lavender from the burning candle on the shelf filled the room. Harry laid back in the tub, laid below the bubbles. It was slightly childish, but made Harry feel better as he soaked in the water. Gia came in, closed the door. Even without his glasses, Harry could make out her blonde hair.

“Could’ve done the hot tub,” Gia said.

“Thought it was going to be a shower,” Harry said, “Changed my mind.”

Gia brought over a small tray of bottles, set it on the edge of the tub.

“Well, this’ll make you tougher to spot,” Gia said, “It’d be a whole different you.”

“Is that what I think it is?” Harry asked.

“You’re supposed to have black hair,” Gia said, “This’ll stop that, besides, I want to see it on you, please? Pretty please.”

“I guess,” Harry said.

Gia pulled the plug, the water began to drain.

“It’ll take time to reheat,” Harry said.

“According to the directions, it can start out wet,” Gia said, “But, it’ll wash out if you’re in the water.”

Gia grabbed a brush from the first bottle, began to apply it to Harry’s hair, the blackness of it started to leach out.

* * *

1 Harry’s and Gia’s relationship was solidified in the prequel; she’s a muggle and a childhood friend of Hermione’s.  
2 This is pre–ootp, remember? At the time, there was a rumor, and Mrs. Weasley was my guess to the fan who died. Even though OotP has been released, I’m sticking with Mrs. Weasley for this story, so Sirius is currently alive.  
3 Canon, through HBP, simply describe Hermione as living in a suburb south of London, so I fabricated a name, Noigate, for it, and it’ll remain so for the purposes of this story.  



	2. Green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update date is reflecting that I'm posting this work to "Archive of Our Own" in 2018, not the 2003 date that it was first published to FF.net. However, the bulk of the next hundred chapters or so is material that was predominantly written in the 2003-2005 time period, with some updates in 2008 and 2012. It had gone into hiatus for a while, and now I'm motivated to work on the story again, so I am. I'm doing this by going back and revising the existing material, because, simply due to the time gap, a refresher for the smaller details is needed (and I can undo some horrific edits that I've made in the past).

Thump! Thump!

“Wake up!” came the holler as Ron was shook into a lucid wakeful state Tuesday morning, “Wake up!”

Ron slightly cracked his eyelids to Hermione shaking him; a backpack already on her back.

“It’s—” Ron protested.

“We’re about to miss the train—” Hermione said as she pulled his arm out of the bed.

“Another—” Ron started.

“And ruin all our plans?” Hermione asked as her other arm yanked the covers off.

Goosebumps ran across Ron’s suddenly exposed body.

“Come!” Hermione snapped.

Ron stood up only to have her pull his arm toward the door. He caught a glimpse of his dick and pubic hair in the mirror of the door before it opened.

“Your Dad—” Ron protested.

“Come!” Hermione yanked Ron into a mild jog out the bedroom door.

“I’m—” Ron started.

“In a bit!” Hermione snapped as they bolted down the stairs.

Hermione, fully dressed with trousers and a short sleeve shirt, pulled Ron down the stairs and out the front door. Gia followed, also fully dressed in shorts and a tank–top shirt, with a backpack, and she was pulling Harry. Ron had barely any time to register, to see that every strand of hair on Harry was bottle green, including the pubic hair. 

“I have to—” Ron protested to Hermione.

“It can wait—” Hermione started.

“No it—” Ron’s bladder pushed and he left a short zigzagging wet trail as they pushed into a full run.

“Can we—” Harry started.

“No time to talk. Hurry!” Hermione snapped.

Which is how the two todgers, two pairs of loose testicle filled scrotums, flopped around for the entertainment of Noigate as they ran; both Gia and Hermione dressed for the warm summer. One old lady was tending to her front flowers, smiled as the youthful boys ran past. They paused at the crosswalk with drivers too eager to wait for pedestrians. Harry gripped his dick underneath the hot sun, tried using the small pillar to shield as he began to pee, but Gia pulled him to cross as a motorist did stop; his misaimed jet stream power washed the front bumper of that motorist as his bladder insisted on draining.

The train was already at the station loading passengers when they rounded into the station. The doors slid shut right behind them, edging Harry’s buttocks as they closed.

“We need to sit—” Ron said.

“Sorry for the change,” Hermione said, “You two wouldn’t wake and we realized there was maintenance. Miss and everything would be fouled—”

“We do need to—” Harry started, his eyes behind his glass frames roamed the overcrowded train, searching for a spot to sit.

“Then next time, don’t oversleep!” Hermione snapped.

Several people yielded their seats to Gia and Hermione, while Harry and Ron got mixed up in the crowd standing in the aisle.

“Bloody hell,” Ron muttered as he and Harry used their hands to cover their genitals.

“Yeah,” Harry muttered as they stopped at the next station.

Crowds moved, forcing Harry and Ron a bit further, into the middle of the car. Giggly teenage girls to either side made no secret to their stares to where Ron and Harry were attempting to shield; either seeing the red or green pubic hair, their buttocks. A voluptuous blond adjusted the stretch of her white shirt; her nipples pressed to highlight the lack of a bra. The girls giggled at Harry’s blushing, he was trying to stay upright with the click and clack of the train over the rails while his hands kept trying to suppress his dick from excitement.

“They may do,” one girl said.

“Can’t tell as they hide their goods,” a second girl, next to Harry, said as she tried to pry his hands, though his scrotum began to show.

“We’re just getting the bum end of the bargain,” a girl across the aisle said, this spooked Ron into spinning around.

Both of the girls shoved them both backward, hands against their loins, Harry nearly tripped as the girls pressed him between them and his buttocks landed upon the window of the commuter car. Ron’s anus became a featurette for the people standing on the platform. The surge of passengers filled the void leaving both Harry and Ron trapped in the four–seaters of the rail car. Both found their hands being pried as the train resumed its trip.

Ron conceded first to keep his balance; his semi–aroused todger was the first to be inspected.

“I suppose it will have to do,” one girl said.

Ron saw the tits through the light and low cut shirt; both of her feet were on the seat with legs spread, when she reached up her short skirt, commando style, her labia fully exposed. All four girls smiled as Ron’s dick stiffened, the erection ratcheting upward. The young girl on Ron’s left blew across the shaft jutting out from him; her fingers rubbed her clitoris and around her vulva.

“Um…” Ron muttered, knowing that they all could view themselves in the shimmer of his moist glans as his foreskin wasn’t big enough to completely cover it soft, let alone, hard.

“You need not bang—” the girl on his right said as her fingers probed his loose scrotum for his plump testicles “—but a little juice would help—”

“Par—” Ron started.

The masturbating girl paused long enough to pull her shirt down to let her tits ride over the edge. She studied his erection as she continued to rub.

Ron felt a tug and stumbled until his arse was sitting on the knee of the girl that was formerly to his left, with him leaned back and legs spread, with the girls, including the masturbating one, keeping a good eye on his loose scrotum underneath his firm statue jutting upward. The one that Ron was leaning against reached around his waist, grabbed his right hand, and moved toward the dick; her left hand guided his left hand under the shirt of the girl on their left.

His buttocks were firmly on the bare thigh of the girl whose right hand touched his hard and excited erection. She giggled as her right index finger touched his slit, her hand clamped his hand about the shaft, his fingers firmly wrapped about whereas hers stayed agile. Her hand moved down and prodded into his pubic hair and scrotum as his hand started to toss.

Several business men in the aisle adjusted their ties as they tried to avoid watching as Ron’s foreskin started to slip and the masturbating girl gave a quick moan. Ron’s testosterone coursed through his blood as his sexuality became the entertainment of the passengers. His thumb gripped the upper side as the index and middle fingers worked the under side of his penis. The youthful breasts kept him stroking as the girls studied him, while the girl under him toyed with his testicles.

Ron failed to notice the editorial intern drawing an inflated caricature of his full scrotum, todger, and pubic hair as he tossed. His glans kept a repeated cycle of peak–a–boo as he masturbated in the rhythm of the girl, the girl who kept a close eye on his slit as it stayed steadily aimed at her. His jewels were fully cupped and supported by the girl feeling them up as the first shiver started during the braking into Waterloo.

“It’s coming—” the girl whispered as his love spuds started to drain.

The masturbating girl watched the first surge as she maintained her orgasm; straight out of his hard dick, the slit spewed the first salvo, the shot of pearly white splattered on the edge of the seat, just barely missing her pink as the train was in sight of the station platforms. His juice flowed in the subsequent few surges.

“Interesting…” the girl, who was fondling his testicles, muttered as she watched the scrotum.

Ron raised his eyebrows as the doors opened. The girl next to the window on the other bench stood up.

“She wants to be a doctor,” the girl said, “and we’ve got to catch…”

Slightly softer, his todger was still oozing juice as Ron found himself shoved into the thinning corridor, the other passengers were quickly disembarking; he glanced at Harry’s look at him.

“What—?!” Ron started.

“Are you complaining about the service of this train?” Harry asked as they went for the way off the train.

Ron snorted as a slightly growing thin pendulum of semen oscillated with his step. Ron grabbed a used napkin near the door to wipe his dick. Hermione and Gia caught up as they started to leave the train.

“I don’t blame you a bit,” Hermione said as they stepped off the train.

“Neither do I see you—” Harry started as they jogged for the escalators up to _Waterloo East_.

“Don’t” Hermione snapped.

“Should we go back—” Gia asked.

“No!” Harry whipped as his own todger bounced about as he ran down the ramp to the platform where the train was already waiting.

They made it onto the 1042 express train, which was nearly empty. Hermione stormed for the other end, Harry followed.

“Hermione!” Harry said.

She returned the glare, her eyes kept darting at his dick and bottle green pubic hair.

“In case it escaped your attention,” Harry said, “Boys do have penises—”

Hermione snorted.

“Unless you think we don’t,” Harry said as he pointed at his own.

“I think I might have read something like that in a book somewhere—” Hermione said, dismissively.

“Have you considered that a dick might be like a tail or Hagrid with a three headed dog?” Harry said, “There’s only so much that can be done! Or that those girls molested him?”

“Then he would have reported—” Hermione said.

“And you—you could have woken us up earlier—” Harry said.

“I tried—” Hermione said.

Harry sat down next to her on the seat.

“Did you even think that Fred’s or George’s prank might have lingered—” Harry started.

“That was yesterday—” Hermione said.

“And years ago I got a scar—” Harry retorted.

“I…I…” Hermione started.

“Look,” Harry said, “…. if he weren’t starkers…”

“If he weren’t getting excited at every girl—” Hermione said.

“And you wouldn’t know it if he were dressed,” Harry quipped.

“I’m sorry,” Gia said as she approached, Ron behind her, “We should have tried to wake you—”

“And if all we’re going to do is fight—” Ron started.

“Now that we’ve got some time,” Hermione said, “You could get some clothes from your luggage—”

“Do you see any luggage?” Ron asked, his arms wide and his genitals in full view.

“Did you mean to say that you forgot—” Gia asked.

“I thought you two—” Harry started, his eyes glancing between Hermione and Gia.

“If you expect us to dress you—” Hermione started.

“Did you pack any—” Ron asked.

“Have you compared your waist to ours—” Gia asked.

“Can we?” Ron quipped.

Hermione sighed.

“What do we have?” Harry asked.

“I overslept too, we all did,” Hermione said, “Fortunately, I think I did accidentally grab…”

She opened her backpack and uncovered their wands and several wallets. Harry grabbed one of the wallets and opened it.

“Mine—” Harry said, “Keep them as I don’t have pockets.”

“What’d you expect me to do?” Hermione said, “I was expecting you to pack your own stuff!”

“Gotta run around starkers?” Ron asked.

They sat in an open four seater. Ron and Gia took the window seats; she looked forward, while he was on the edge of his seat, testicles hanging over the edge, and glaring as Harry sat next to Gia. Harry brought his feet up to the edge of the seat as Hermione sat. Hermione’s eyes stayed fixed on the genitals between Harry’s spread legs, keeping them there after Harry’s erection returned.

“Can we not start this?” Harry said, “We’ll get to Devon, I think we’ll have time to buy something before the ferry departs.”

“Money money!” Ron snapped.

A gray cloud lingered over them. Ron kept glaring at Harry; while Harry watched Hermione get up and walk around as she feigned an interest in the emergency instructions posted about. Hermione came back, sat on the seat, and stared at Harry’s bottle green hair. Harry twirled his soft penis around, Hermione snorted, but she gave a bit of a grin; he twisted it, rolled his foreskin, and kept playing with it, until Gia’s hand took over. Hermione watched Gia’s foreplay with Harry. Ron glared and glared at Gia. Harry grabbed Gia, and stood up, pulled her down the corridor into the next carriage.

“That prat!” Harry exclaimed, his voice drifting back into their primary carriage, “Of all the ego–centric—”

“Sit and spin,” Ron muttered.

“Ronald Bil—” Hermione started.

“Not you, too!” Ron snapped.

Hermione glared for a moment.

“You’re doing this to yourself,” Hermione said.

Ron continued his mood for some while. In the meanwhile, the train arrived at Dover and they got off.

“I’ve got your wallet,” Hermione reminded Harry, “We can—”

“No,” Harry said, “Go with Gia—”

“You’re starkers—” Hermione said.

“And Ron’s angry,” Harry said, “I’d rather—”

“Just remember that people won’t appreciate you peeing in the gutter—” Hermione said.

“Is pooping okay?” Harry asked as a mild chuckle came from his mouth.

Hermione shook her head, took Gia with her toward the waterfront. Harry, however, dragged Ron up to Dover Castle, not noticing the small paper in Ron’s hand. Ron kept both a frown on his face and his distance from Harry as they poked about, eventually making their way into a tunnel leading from the Keep to the outer gate guard shack.

“Blatantly gallivanting his rubbish…” Ron muttered.

Harry’s small hands grabbed Ron by the shoulders, magic flowed as Harry pushed him against the wall. Ron did not resist, but instead, slouched until their eyes were level.

“Belt up you sour puss!” Harry said, “Gutted but this is supposed to be fun, all right? Or would you rather spend the summer with Ginny watching your arse?”

“Ew, Sick!” Ron said.

“I need a friend that I can be seen naked with, I need you,” Harry said, “Alright?”

“Yeah,” Ron sighed.

“And what’s this?” Harry released Ron, grabbed the paper from Ron’s hand.

“Don’t,” Ron pleaded.

Harry, however, opened it. It was from the morning’s copy of _Witch Weekly_ , which Harry rotated it to view the centerfold upright.

“She sent it in!” Ron snapped.

Harry recognized it as Ron, taken the day before in the moving picture. Repeatedly, the photo–Ron orgasmed and ejaculated, which included the bit of semen that hit Professor McGonagall’s robes. Harry snickered.

“It’s not funny!” Ron protested.

“I didn’t realize exactly what Fred and Ginny captured—” Harry smiled as he said that.

“Try it sometime—” Ron snatched the magazine “—and see how you feel—”

“At least you’re out of the Burrow for the summer,” Harry said, “No more of these pictures for her.”

Ron grimaced.

“Gia’s got you by the bollocks,” Ron said.

“Ya think?” Harry asked as his hands motioned to his lower front side.

Harry retracted his foreskin, the normally pink glans was green, darker than the bottle green of the hair.

“How?” Ron asked.

“Dye,” Harry said, showing all sides, including a bit into the foreskin. Only bit of pink showed deep inside the slit as he spread it open.

“Wicked,” Ron said, “But likely costs..”

“Does it look like I’m carrying stuff here?” Harry asked, “Does it?”

“Are you—” Ron started, “Should I have to peel—”

“In case you hadn’t noticed,” Harry said, “I’m not carrying anything—quit whining and enjoy it! If it’ll make you feel better, we could…maybe…nobody’s really cared so far…dunno… Let me put it this way, those girls didn’t ask you for your wallet, did they?”

“Of course they didn’t—” Ron said, “—they could see—”

“Then lets not bother to get anything,” Harry said.

“We need some clothes—”

“Do we?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re letting Hermione suck too long—”

Ron gave Harry a quick smack.

“Anyways, it occurred to me on the train,” Harry said, “I don’t think it was some _accident_.”

“You mean—” Ron started.

“I set the alarm, didn’t you?” Harry said, “My wallet and my wand were in my backpack, you?”

“Those dirty—”

“I say we get ‘em back, we forget the clothes,” Harry said, “Why bother?”

Ron studied Harry’s eyes.

“And yes, I’m serious,” Harry said, “It’s too hot anyways, and—”

“Girls would protest—” Ron started.

“We too can make sure that _accidents_ are arranged,” Harry said, “Especially sending that owl delivery—”

“Owl delivery?” Ron stammered.

“On the train,” Harry said, “From Hermione, to Hermione, it likely had our clothes and I sent it back with a return.”

“And you’re as bad—” Ron started.

“They started it,” Harry said, “Anyways, if it keeps you from going mad, I’m willing to let Europe see my willy. And the girls—it’d be nice for them to—lets just say we won’t be forgotten.”

Harry and Ron left the tunnel, paused in the sunshine on the edge of the embankment.

“I wasn’t looking forward to seeing—” Ron said.

“You’re saying it’s ugly?” Harry quipped.

“No…wasn’t implying…” Ron stammered, his willpower tried to force his eyes from looking.

Harry laughed and Ron joined in the laugh.

“And shit—” Ron blurted.

“Having the girls join us—” Harry started.

“No,” Ron said, as he held his bum, “I mean I have to—”

“I think I saw a loo—” Harry said, pointing.

“I can’t—” Ron said.

Ron tried to run, but a pop started, and he instinctively crouched, his genitals dangling beneath his thighs as the first bit emerged in the middle of the grass. Dark brown, the fecal material came out long as he deposited it. Harry glanced around the yard and noted a security person taking notice but seemingly did not concern herself with Ron’s public defecation. Another visitor, a young lady, not too older than them, had a camcorder pointed straight at them, trained on the pooping.

Harry tried to avoid staring at Ron.

“My personal Bludger!” Ron snapped.

“There’s a loo—” Harry whispered while pointing.

“I just—”

“You may as well have your arse hole look cared for,” Harry said, “It’s—I mean—”

“I get it,” Ron stated as the last of his turds hit the ground.

Ron gave an angry glance at Harry as he stood and went for the loo. Abandoning the new pile on the lawn, Harry followed. They entered, Ron went for a stall and grabbed a wad of paper.

“While I know you get off on this kind of—” Ron started.

“I don’t get why they didn’t tell you off,” Harry said.

“Like muggles care—” Ron snapped.

“They do—and they have laws against—” Harry started.

“Maybe it’s YOU!” Ron exclaimed.

“Don’t rub that—” Harry said as Ron flushed, “—I mean drop it.”

“Sorry,” Ron said.

They left the loo.

“Tell you what,” Harry said as his right arm wrapped about Ron, “Let’s enjoy this—my bollocks are nice and loose—”

“Like I needed to know—” Ron said.

“Nothing outside our skin matters—just enjoy the trip with the girls,” Harry said, “With them starkers, if possible.”

Ron snickered.

“No rules,” Harry said, “None! Take a dump as a pleasure for others, or use the loo, or piss in the drinking fountain—”

“Others might—” Ron started.

“Then they scold us and we move on to piss in the next town’s drinking fountain,” Harry said.

“You had better not!” came the words of Hermione as they joined up at the ferry terminal.

“We were just kidding,” Harry said.

“And still starkers,” Hermione said, the eyes of the female agent looked over Ron and Harry’s genitals as this was said.

“You have our wallets,” Harry said, “Anyways, we need to get—”

“Ferry’s about to leave,” the agent said.

Harry grabbed his wallet from Hermione, and paid for the tickets; he handed the wallet to Gia and made for the boat.

“Looks like somebody’s traveling light,” the male boat attendant said as he took their tickets and checked their passports, “If only I could talk my girlfriend into that.”

They walked to the boat.

“In case you thought nobody would notice you two hawking pubic hair—” Hermione started.

“Chill,” Ron stated.

Harry and Gia started to move around the boat.

“Pardon?!” Hermione said, “You’re anything but cold.” Her eyes glanced at Ron’s loose scrotum.

“Just saying,” Ron said, “—keeping sight of my pubs is growing on me.”

“Will you promise me, when we get—” Hermione started as Ron glanced at the thin shirt lightly veiling her breasts.

“Can you just relax?” Ron said as his todger began to stiffen, “I’m getting hungry.”

“Oh, I’m certain you are,” Hermione stated.

“In more ways than one,” Ron said as he gave her a hug. He gripped one of her snaps.

“Do and I’ll rip this thing off,” Hermione gripped his dick for a moment.

“Alright,” Ron said as he let go, “I’ll be about.”

“We couldn’t help but notice—” the woman started.

The woman’s eyes tried to avoid, but looked anyways at Harry’s crotch, his legs parted and stretched as he leaned back in the seat.

“The green hair?” Harry said, “Gia dyed it—she thought it looked pretty.”

Not that they had missed it, for it was his bushy pubic hair that had originally caught their attention.

“We were referring to the fact that no hair is unrevealed,” the man said.

“Oh…them,” Harry glanced at his dick, “Got up way too late—hadn’t had a good chance yet—”

“How long ago was that?” the boy asked.

Harry snorted and chuckled.

“Long enough to have misplaced our luggage,” Harry said, “Feels better, so I might not do anything about it.”

“Seems good enough of a reason to me,” the teenage girl said.

Ron, having sat at the end of the row, started to gaze upon Harry’s dick. Last week, a dick that had confronted you–know–who. A dick that had… A dick that clearly doesn’t have a Galleon to its name. A dick that showed Ron how much of a dick he was being dicking about money. A dick, dangling from his friend. A rich friend. A dick that would surrender bollocks to get his parents back. A dick, basking in the attention. A dick clearly making the friend happy. A dick, that likely doesn’t know where most of his Gringotts vault did come from. A dick that doesn’t realize that it’s spending the blood money for his parents. A dick that Ron would miss if it were not around. A dick that started to infect a smile onto Ron’s face. A dick that Ron suddenly realized that he had been staring at.

Ron glanced up, caught a returning glance from Harry, tension eased in both. Having seen what they had seen, together, and him having witnessed of Harry, Ron acquiesced as their exposed dicks calmed them both. Not that they were totally causal about it, yet, but they both knew it was the way to go, yet both were uneasy, as nobody yet seemed to protest. Apparently, while Ron thought it odd about Muggle culture, Harry knew that under normal circumstances, he would have been picked up ages ago.

Ron got up and headed toward the gallery, and paused around the corner.

“…and can’t believe they fell for it,” Hermione said to Gia.

“Nice idea there,” Gia said, “Both of them said that you were smart and devious.”

“I have my moments,” Hermione said, “If we had more time at Waterloo—”

“If your lie about maintenance—” Gia said, “Those schedules were tight enough as it was—”

“If it weren’t for that signaling fault at Woking—” Hermione said, “Even still—where’s the owl?”

“Don’t fret about it,” Gia said, “It’s not like they’re complaining—”

“Boys—” Hermione started.

“And I don’t mind the sight,” Gia said.

They both giggled. Ron turned around, dug through the post box, found the envelope he was looking for, before going outside, where Harry was now standing.

“Just heard the girls—” Ron explained the conversation.

“We make great pets,” Harry replied.

“What?!” Ron stammered.

“Lyrics to some song I overheard,” Harry said, “I say we give them what they want, as we discussed.”

“One step ahead of you there,” Ron said, “Lets just say that Hermione’s mum won’t know of our plight as Muggle post is unreliable.”

“Not that unreliable,” Harry said, “Are you sure on traveling light?”

“Now you’re asking!” Ron snapped.

Harry snorted.

“Can’t say it’s totally—” Ron said, “Getting others sizing up your todger too? It’s not like some of their stuff leaves much guessing anyways.”

“Uneasy feeling too.” Harry felt his shrunken sack. “And the wind.”

“It has its advantages too.” Ron jumped backward up onto a railing, letting his arse hang over, his genitals rested on the rail.

“Going overboard?” Harry asked.

“No,” Ron said, shaking his head, “Just more appealing than their loo.”

Ron parted his buttocks and sludge started to move.

“Fred’s curse strikes again,” Ron said, “It’s not the first time he’s cursed me, though that was a new one, likely has side–effects.”

For a moment, a good foot dangled from his arse, it swayed in the breeze, before the light brown turd dropped to the water below.

“I can see,” Harry said, “I think we’re on the French side.”

“Good,” Ron said as a smaller chunk dropped, “Do I need to clean?”

Harry glanced at the brown hole, saw the light skin around it.

“Nothing holding on,” Harry remarked.

In short order, the ferry made it to Calais. As they departed the terminal, Harry was on the receiving end of an angry blast from an angry motorist, one that had nearly ran into his fleshy buttocks as Harry crossed in front.

“Watch it—” Hermione said, “They drive on the right side—and—the train!”

Dicks flopping, buttocks flexing, they ran for the station and watched as the train pulled away without them. Harry glanced at Hermione fiddling with a wallet.

“At least you’ve got time to—” Hermione started.

“How can you be so insensitive?” Harry scolded as a mild green grew on Ron’s face.

“In case you didn’t realize—you’re NAKED!” Hermione said, “In the name of decency—”

Ron glanced at Harry.

“If all you wanted to do was shop—” Ron spouted as he bolted for the way out.

“WE will be back in three hours—come or stew,” Harry stated.

Harry chased after Ron; Hermione stood as the buttocks flexed their way out of view.

“We intended—” Hermione said.

“You know how sensitive Ron is with money,” Gia said, “You don’t want to wedge their friendship apart.”

“Not everybody takes kindly—” Hermione started.

“A copper will sort them out and they’d brag about it,” Gia said.

They went for the exit.

“It was just a prank—”

“I came to spend time with Harry–let’s catch up—”

“Which way?” Hermione asked.

“Think.” Gia turned to a nearby police officer. “Did you see two naked boys—”

The officer pointed north along the road.

“You’re right—”

“Easier to find if they stay starkers.”

Hermione snorted.

“It started as a prank,” Gia said, “See no reason to force them—”

“And get arrested for—” Hermione started.

“Like we’re dressed much better?” Gia pulled on her white t–shirt, her nipples briefly vanished as they passed a topless local. “—in fact—” She pulled her shirt off, letting her breasts roam free.

“It’s still—”

“I didn’t come to be a chaperon. If they come into trouble, we warned them.”

“True,” Hermione said, “Which way—”

“I’m guessing the sea,” Gia said.

“Oh—now I remember—” Hermione said, “Yes, there’s a beach—”

Gia laughed. They caught up with Harry and Ron at the threshold to the beach, nobody around besides the girls had anything on.

“Good,” Harry said, “Ron’s a bit famished—”

“Like we—” Hermione said.

“You’ve got the wallets, right?” Harry asked.

“It’s not clothing optional,” Ron said, lying while he looked at Hermione, still dressed, next to Gia with shorts.

“It’s not—” Hermione started.

“It’s clothing forbidden,” Harry stated, picking up on Ron’s tactic.

“I’m a bit unsure—” Hermione said.

“Won’t force it,” Harry said, “Anyways—”

Gia glanced at Harry’s protruding ribs.

“I’m definitely hungry,” Gia said.

Harry grabbed Gia by the shoulder; they headed back up the street.

“Got my wallet?” Harry asked, “Need to bang?”

“Are you serious?” Gia asked, “Didn’t you have some monk–like—”

“Started to realize—” Harry said, “It’s like now, if we didn’t take the leap…before today, only a handful of souls had seen my privates—but today, hundreds if not strangers have. Sure, I notice them looking, and I do care, but my todger’s still here—” he let his penis firm up “—maybe…”

Harry reached for her shorts.

“Your hangups—” Gia said.

“Let them sort themselves out,” Harry said as he dropped her shorts and panties to the ground; he reached down and tossed them into a nearby rubbish bin, at a deli cafe.

“What if—” Gia started.

“Why worry?” A waiter, dressed in a T–shirt and shorts, asked them; the young adult male looked wishfully at them. “Here are some menus.”

Gia sat on the bar stool at the outside elevated table

“I’ll take soup and salad—he’ll get a…” Gia looked at the menu “…steak sandwich and chips.”

Harry shrugged.

“Anything to drink?” the waiter asked.

“Diet soda for me—regular for him.” Gia said.

Harry shrugged and the waiter went to the back. Harry kept his erection up as he started to paw through the backpack. All of her clothes were making it into the rubbish bin, joining the just removed pair of shorts that had left her starkers.

“I might need—” Gia started.

“Then we shop if there’s troubles,” Harry said, “No point in carrying it all the way for nothing.”

“Only if you accept responsibility—” Gia started.

“Dunno why,” Harry said, “Something tells me—”

The waiter showed up with their food. They quickly ate, Harry did so slowly. Gia kept his statue primed. As they came to a finish, the waiter approached.

“Need anything for dessert?” the waiter asked.

Gia motioned for him to come closer and whispered into his ear.

“Um…” the waiter said, “Certainly.”

Gia laid down a high value note for the bill.

Harry’s face started to show some pinkness. “Um…”

“It’s a while to the train,” Gia said.

Gia pushed the table away, nobody mistook Harry’s mood as they sat on the stools, his bollocks dangling loose underneath the hard erection. She started stroking his chest and his grin was wide; she gave him a quick kiss. Harry latched his tongue into her mouth.

“Hmm…” Gia muttered.

He brought her chest into his, while his cock stood watch, and her hip guarded his hip. Her knockers pressed into his skin. Her right hand started to jiggle his scrotum, his testicles bobbed up and down. Her tongue started to withdraw, his withdrew, while she turned slightly. Gia moved slightly, her breasts cluttered his view as she pulled him back. He pulled her left leg about his head, her crotch became his view. His tongue moved up and touched her folds. As he leaned full back, arched with his dick standing vertical, her thighs caught and supported his head. She leaned over and kissed the slit.

A nearby tourist stood with his video camera aimed at them. Neither Harry nor Gia paid any heed. The tent pole in the tourist’s shorts showed his interest as Harry’s tongue touched Gia’s clitoris.

Harry licked and Gia started to mouth onto his statue. She started to moan slightly as Harry’s tongue moved inward; her tongue massaged his shaft several times, and started onto his glans. It was only when Harry noticed the tourist close in on him massaging her buttocks that he realized he was giving a show—they could see his own cock which was obscured from his angle. They watched her jiggle his family jewels for their pleasure too. Quickly, he felt the quiver and she withdrew in time to see his boyish magma erupt. Several of the spectators cheered when his first shot got onto Gia’s face. Gia let the oozing off pearly white leave a trail down into his bottle green pubic hair. Harry didn’t notice the camera taking a closeup of his freshly squeezed genitals.

After the waiter brought out a soda refill, Gia let Harry’s head out, and took a sip. She left the semen splash on her cheek.

“Um…” Harry said as he sat back up.

“It’s fun,” Gia said, “However, the aftertaste…don’t complain.”

“Alright,” Harry said.

“It would be nice to get some surf before the train—”

“Sure,” Harry said as he stood up.

Both elected to let the evidence loiter and dry on its own as they left the deli. After the four caught the train, Gia’s right hand started combing Harry’s pubic hair. Only Hermione still wore anything, her shirt, shorts that had replaced her trousers, and the sandals that were her outfit.

“Are you trying—?!” Hermione started.

“Wha—” Harry started.

“You have to admit—it is weird,” Gia said, “Running around starkers is one thing—with what we’ve done—”

An owl came flapping by the window. Ron grabbed the letter addressed to him.

Ron,

Blimey! We’ve heard you’ve got some bollocks—some witches liked your todger on the train and were gossiping in the shop. We managed to convince Dad it was some muggle—but with Harry also hanging out his manhood makes it tough. Good work though, as apparently nobody is stopping you nor charging you with indecent exposure and lewd behavior.

We recommend combing your bush. Also, Ginny uses your excited eleventh finger as a ruler, apparently. Here’s some helpers to enhance your exploits.

Fred & George

“You’ve been noticed!” Hermione snapped.

“And only you seem to care!” Ron snapped.

“But—” Hermione stammered.

“Just relax—” Harry said as Gia cupped his loose scrotum.

“I can see what’s—” Hermione glanced at his bollocks, “You’d think—”

“I don’t know why—” Harry said.

“Of course you don’t!” Hermione snapped as she rose from her seat.

Hermione bolted for the next carriage; Ron stood and jogged to catch up.

“You two—” Hermione said, “I mean you three—”

“They didn’t—” Ron started.

“Did you even _read_ that letter?” Hermione said, “Aren’t you the least bit suspicious—”

“We’ll never find out if we cover up,” Ron said, inspired.

“Uh–huh,” Hermione said, dubious.

“Whatever is happening—it is too hot—” Ron flicked sweat off his loin, “It’s a holiday and Mum would’ve permitted it given we couldn’t afford…”

“Nevermind.”

“Wha—? I mean… don’t mean to pressure…um…why cloak beauty?”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Clothes make you look ugly—fat—” Ron started.

“Prat!”

Ron grinned.

“I—I…” Hermione started to lift her shirt. “Anything happens—”

“And we’re in trouble together—it’s happened before.”

“Still not a great—” Hermione tossed her shirt to the side.

“You are a beautiful witch,” Ron said, his snake wiggled at the sight of her nipples.

“Just because—” Hermione started, her shorts dropped to the floor.

“Why hide the honest opinion?” Ron said as his flesh firmed up.

“You two just wanted us—” Hermione started as she turned to return.

Ron’s foot flicked her clothing underneath the seats and grabbed her tightly about the waist from behind, his cock knocked onto her side.

“I certainly love it,” Ron said, “I certainly love you enough to show everybody that you make me horny—”

“Careful—” Hermione started.

“You want me to lie?” Ron asked as they started to waddle forward.

“Um…” Hermione uttered.

“Anyways, you started—” Ron started.

“Ron!” Hermione snapped.

“Ahem,” Ron said, “You forget that I know you. I know you. I know you too well to have let us out the door—”

“Ample opportunity to get—”

“You just didn’t figure us getting hooked—”

“So that’s your excuse—”

“We didn’t have a chance for a while—by which point…well…it…it is comfortable as is.”

“Honesty at last,” Hermione said as they finished returning to the carriage with Harry and Gia.

“It’s tough for him to lie,” Harry said as Gia massaged his partially aroused snake.

“But you could—” Gia started.

“Can’t lie about the size of my todger,” Ron said.

“Good observation,” Hermione said.

“And about you—” Gia said.

“I’m not completely convinced this is a good—” Hermione said, “Can’t be the ugly duckling.”

“You’re definitely not ugly,” Harry said as he yawned, “You look wonderful.”

Harry leaned a bit further into Gia, his head drooped onto her bosom. Hermione sat down and watched as Harry’s foreskin reclaimed its charge, slowly a small yellow waterfall trickled out.

“He’s…” Hermione started to blurt. Her eyes darted up to his shuttered eyes, then back down to the bollocks and the stream that meandered over the edge of the seat and onto the floor.

“It wouldn’t be Harry if he didn’t—” Gia said.

“I was wondering who wet the bed—” Hermione asked, “Does he always—”

“Normally,” Gia said, “He’s—”

“If you’re awake,” Ron said, “It can trigger—be right back.”

Ron got up and made for the watercloset.

“If peeing the bed is the worst trait of a boyfriend—” Gia said.

“I suppose,” Hermione said, “Makes the laundry—”

“The shops do sell stuff to handle that,” Gia said, “Gives a different perspective…”

“Hot, too hot!” Harry snapped, still asleep.

Harry’s stream became a fast jet. Gia massaged his ear lobe and Harry returned to a slow trickle.

“Does he always—” Hermione asked.

“Occasionally,” Gia said.

Harry curled up, brought his knees up until his legs rested on hers, and started to suck his thumb.

“We should tell—” Hermione started.

“No,” Ron said, returning to the seat, “Nothing can be done—for now.”

“Like you care—” Hermione snapped.

“Like I think that we’re doing all that we can do for him,” Ron stated, “Let us keep doing what we’re doing.”

Hermione looked at Ron’s forehead for a moment, wondering about the one she’s called her _boyfriend_.


	3. Brussels

Ron woke the next morning, on the floor beneath the bunk beds in their small private hostel room. Above him, Hermione was standing by the desk like table, fidgeting. Ron stood, pushed his front into her back, wrapped his arms around to massage into her breasts, and looked over her shoulder to see her messing with the wallets. Hermione groaned for a moment.

“Hermione?” Ron asked.

“In case you hadn’t noticed,” Hermione said, “We lack pockets. So, unless you want to hide your passport up your arse—”

“You’re an intelligent witch,” Ron whispered, “So—”

“I’m working on it,” Hermione stated, “Don’t get any ideas.”

“Me?” Ron asked, innocently as his erection began to push on her back.

“Yes, you,” Hermione said, twisting for a moment, escaping her clutches.

“Can’t help it, you make me horny,” Ron said.

“Obviously,” Hermione said.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked, waking up. Gia was still asleep next to him on the bottom bunk.

“Hermione’s trying to figure out how we can hide our wallets and things,” Ron said, his eyes made contact with his.

“Ditching the backpacks?” Harry said, still beneath the damp sheets, “Good idea—it’d be nice to, and they do awful things to your backs—”

“Like what?” Hermione snapped.

“Covers it up,” Ron said, “Beautiful back.”

Hermione snorted.

“It’s true,” Harry said, “You’re always gorgeous.”

“I’m starkers,” Hermione quipped.

“And it’s wonderful,” Harry said, “You’re wonderful inside and outside.”

“Quit hitting on her,” Ron said.

“What’s not to like?” Harry asked.

“Quit it,” Ron said.

“We can’t carry a lot,” Hermione said, changing the topic.

“We’ll post the rest back,” Harry said, “It’s not like we’ll need a lot.”

“A few odds and ends at most,” Hermione said, “Wands, wallets, and a thing or two more.”

Harry got out of bed, grabbed Gia’s backpack, and began rummaging through it. Harry pulled out his Firebolt, laid it on the bed, along with his wand, wallet, penknife, passport and tickets; he began to pull out Gia’s stuff.

“Can it work on her too?” Harry asked.

“Not certain,” Hermione said, “You might need to carry her stuff too.”

“She may have to share my wallet,” Harry said.

“Huh?” Gia asked, starting to rouse.

“We’re going to travel lighter,” Harry said.

“Lighter?” Gia asked.

“Yeah, lighter,” Harry said, “No backpacks. Anything here you need?”

“Everything,” Gia said.

“We can buy or conjure everything here,” Harry said, “Pack light?”

“You owe me a bang,” Gia said.

“Deal,” Harry said, “Before we get to Charlie’s.”

“Really?” Gia asked.

“I’ve got an idea,” Harry said.

“What?” Gia asked.

“Never mind that, get things figured out,” Hermione said, “I need to know what to hide on us.”

“We’ve got it here already,” Harry said, “Should be with us. The rest can go.”

“Just where are you going to hide those brooms?” Gia asked.

“You don’t want to know,” Ron said.

“How?” Harry asked.

“Best to leave it as a surprise,” Ron said.

“You know about it?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah,” Ron said, “Yours will be much better going in.”

“Thank you for the confidence,” Hermione said.

“How?” Harry asked.

“On the table, all fours,” Ron said, “Show us your butt.”

“Are you doing it where I think you’re doing it?” Gia asked.

“Hardest part is remembering where to grab,” Ron said as Harry did get onto the table, “So, the favorite choice is—” Ron took the oversized condom, pushed it against Harry’s butt crack “—here.” Ron pushed with his middle finger, threading the condom into Harry’s anus.

“Could’ve warned me,” Harry said.

It took a moment for the condom’s edge to tightly ring the anus, it all vanished.

“Now you can shove things up your arse,” Ron said.

“You do that all the time!” Harry snapped.

“Start with the Firebolt,” Ron said, casually, “Want the handle end first or the bristles?”

“Does it matter?” Harry stammered.

“As they say, no pain, no gain,” Gia said.

“And you’re all staring at my arse!” Harry snapped.

“Just think happy thoughts,” Ron said as he grabbed Harry’s Firebolt. Ron aimed it, centered it with Harry’s anus, and rammed the handle inward.

Harry moaned and groaned as his sphincter stretched to let the broom in. His loosely hanging penis began to dribble.

“Hey!” Hermione said, moving her things beneath him, “And Ron, you’re enjoying this!”

“Absolutely not,” Ron said, nonchalantly as the braces pushed Harry’s butt cheeks even further apart, “Just relax, and you’ll get used to it.”

“Really?” Harry stammered.

“What if he takes a dump?” Gia asked.

“Nothing to what’s inside the pocket,” Ron said, “Reaching for something, however, well, doesn’t protect your hand. And the broom’s a big bigger than what most people shove into these.”

“I can’t imagine why that’d be,” Harry said, sarcastically.

“Now, I’ll just pull it back out and shove it back in,” Ron said, “For good measure.”

“NO!” Harry snapped.

“Your turn Ron,” Hermione said, taking Harry’s hint.

“I’ll just do it in the loo,” Ron said.

Ron grabbed his Firebolt, his wand, his things, including a condom, went out the door.

“A shame,” Hermione said, “I figured he’d want to do mine.”

“Does it require somebody else to shove it up his arse?” Gia asked.

“No,” Hermione said, “Still, its better to have help. Got everything?”

“ID and passport’s all that’s needed, right?” Gia asked.

“Pretty much,” Hermione said, “Hold still Harry.”

“Sure, play with my ass!” Harry said.

“I’ll take that as an invitation,” Gia replied.

Hermione, however, shoved Harry’s things up his arse.

“That’ll be great for when you want something,” Gia said, sarcastically.

“Yeah, looks awfully funny to have fingers up my arse,” Harry said, “You do it Hermione.”

“Can’t, it’s attached itself to your butt,” Hermione said, “It’ll only respond to you. So, concentrate on…your wand. Once you want your wand, reach up your butt.”

Harry concentrated, reached.

“Ew,” Gia muttered.

Sludge, brown sludge moved as Harry defecated, the logs came out.

“Yeah, I read that can happen,” Hermione said, “Wait and concentrate a bit harder.”

Harry grabbed a tissue, wiped, before trying again. This time, his holly wand came out to slip itself between his fingers.

“Cool,” Gia said.

“You’ll get the hang of it, now mine,” Hermione said, blushing, “And having you staring at my own arse—small price.”

Harry gritted his teeth as he shoved the wand back in; he got off the table and stood up. He motioned, and Hermione got onto the table, on her fours.

“How did Ron do this to me?” Harry asked, while holding the next condom.

“Here,” Gia said, standing next to Harry, “Finger into it, and push it up. After that, do it to me.” She gave him a quick kiss.

“Sorry, you’re a muggle,” Hermione said.

“Means he can’t play with my arse?” Gia asked.

Hermione laughed a bit before Harry pushed the condom into Hermione’s anus.

“Definitely personal,” Harry said.

“Where else do you put it?” Hermione said, “I’ve got another option as a girl, still, that’s the safer location from what I’ve learned.”

Harry inserted her wand, wallet, and passport, before he got to the set of bottles. Harry paid enough attention to her that he didn’t notice Ron coming back into the room.

“You did bring it along!” Harry said, “I’m not an expert, but do you really want those in the arse too?”

“I thought Ron might be interested too,” Hermione said, “It was a buy one, get one free deal.”

“We’ll talk him into it,” Harry said.

Hermione turned around, sat on the table. “You will?”

“Yeah, best to blend in,” Harry said.

“Blend in?” Hermione said, her eyes ran across his bottle green hair, the stuff on his head, the fine hairs across his arms, the crops of his armpits, the bottle green pubic hair, including the strands coming off his scrotum, “You think you can blend in with that?”

“Black hair, red hair?” Harry said, “Anybody watching out for _Harry Potter_ is looking for those; instead, we’re just a couple of truants if we dye it.”

“So you intend to keep it?” Hermione asked.

“For a while,” Harry said, “Re–dye as needed.”

“You’re serious?” Ron said, “Try talking to me.”

“I did, remember?” Harry said, “It’d be good for you, besides, I haven’t taken myself seriously since she did it.”

“Apparently not,” Ron said.

“Harry has a point,” Hermione said, “Another color, perhaps Malfoy silver?”

“No,” Ron said, “Blue will do.”

“Her fingers will be all over you,” Harry said, “It’ll tickle when she’s doing your bollocks. Catch you downstairs in the cafe.”

“Yeah, sure,” Ron said.

Harry and Gia left the room, went down the stairs; they came into the mildly filled cafe. Harry struggled for a moment at the counter, before he could successfully concentrate and pull the bank note out of his arse. He handed it over. Harry and Gia made for a table.

“Your friend’s not very happy,” Gia said, sipping at her iced tea.

It took Harry a few minutes to respond.

“He’s…you’ve seen his family,” Harry said, “More kids than sense, if what you value is money. Still, the situation irks him, my fame irks him. I try to avoid it with him, but sometimes even a little thing sets him off. We’re naked so we’re not worrying about clothes, that can be a sore spot too.”

Gia sipped a bit more at her tea as the tray of food was carried over.

“But you’re still friends with him,” Gia said.

It took Harry a minute of staring at the bagel, inhaling the smells of bacon, before his thoughts formed.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “I’ve got no family, so I need friends, and he’s a good friend. Him, he lives in the shadow of many older brothers, a younger sister, and now a baby brother. Ron needs a good friend, and I hope I’m being a good friend to him.”

“You are,” said Ron, now standing there, his hair now a bright blue.

Gia reached out, held the partially aroused todger, examined the now dark blue glans peeking out of the foreskin.

“It looks good on you,” Harry said, watching Gia’s thumb push a bit to examine underneath the foreskin.

“Careful,” Hermione said to Gia, “He’s threatened to piss on the first person to do that.”

Gia let go; they laughed. Hermione and Ron sat down.

“You pulled my leg,” Gia said.

“It was funny,” Ron said.

“Any plans for today?” Hermione said.

“Lemme guess, you’ve got some,” Ron said.

“So, you’ve got plans?” Harry whipped at Ron.

“No,” Ron said.

“Well, there’s an art and history museum,” Hermione said.

“Art?” Ron asked, “History?”

“A science museum,” Hermione said, “See how Muggles perceive the world.”

“Maybe,” Harry said.

“There is the autocar museum,” Hermione said, “None of them will fly, mind you.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Ron said, jokingly, “Alright, I suppose I could be made to see those, and we’ll make them fly.”

“There’s supposed to be some good nightclubs for later,” Gia said.

“We’ve got dates,” Harry said.

* * *

Evening had already arrived when the four of them approached a nightclub. Ron paused as he glanced at the myriad of nice trousers and ties.

We’re likely—” Ron started to protest.

“Don’t bounce yourself,” Harry said, “Make them do the dirty work, let them bounce us.”

They came to the door, the bouncer looked them over. In the middle, Harry with his bottle green hair, including the bit of his dark green glans sticking out of his foreskin; and Ron, with his bright blue hair. Hermione, with her small breasts and erect nipples was to Ron’s left, while Gia was to Harry’s right.

“There is a dress code,” the bouncer said.

“It says here no blue jeans, no t–shirts, no shorts,” Gia said, “However, it does permit suits—we’re in birthday suits.”

Harry’s hand went from his butt to the bouncer’s, where he passed a rolled up bank note.

“A bit of a stretch,” the bouncer said, “but I don’t get paid well enough—you may enter. Just behave yourselves.”

Harry went to the bar, whispered and handed over some more notes, and returned.

“You’re covered,” Harry said.

“Harry—” Ron protested.

“Mingle,” Harry ordered, “Have fun!”

Loud music drowned any sensible conversation as they started to move into the crowd of young adults—all the other males were wearing nice shirts and nice trousers, while the females were wearing nice dresses. Quickly, the crowds parted them apart.

“Cute,” a girl said to Ron, her eyes surveyed his dick.

“Thanks,” Ron replied.

“Can’t deny you’ve got the balls,” an eighteen year old boy said.

Ron’s snake firmed to attention, the hard erection was persistently getting groped as the crowds moved and bumped into him. Somebody felt his buttocks, while somebody else reached underneath and felt up his scrotum. His rock hard erection swung with the fast beat.

An hour later, Ron slipped out of the nightclub and walked along the back alley, he hopped a fence and went to somebody’s patio furniture. He reached up his arse; he pulled out a leather bound book, an inkjar, and a quill.

“That ought to hurt,” Ron muttered as he sat on the table.

He opened the book, full of writings, and grabbed the quill.

3 July 1996

It’s been interesting so far. Blimey! ‘mione pulled a prank—so we’ve been exploring Europe starkers. At first I was mad—then became glad. Don’t know if I’ll ever get used to having my penis constantly sized up, but nobody’s recoiled in horror—yet. Harry—dunno if it’s being naked or something else—he’s downright happy, Maybe being naked makes him forget everything else. Whatever the reason, it’s good for him.

We do seem to inspire some copycats—but they seem to get into trouble with the Muggle lawmen for less than we’re doing. Apparently, some are very tolerant, but lewd behavior—not any different than banging in Diagon Alley, I suppose. Hermione is wondering—but she hasn’t read the other letter from Fred or George. I suspect that Dumbledore has a hand in this state of affairs. Whatever the reason, I intend to enjoy it. Need to get back—nothing’s quite like openly sporting a stiffy in a nightclub.

* * *

Ron stood before the mirror the next morning; Harry, Hermione, and Gia were watching him. Ron twisted, turned, looking at his figure in the mirror, from the blue pubic hair gracing his todger to the blue armpit hair to the blue hair on his head, all complementing his blue eyes.

“Was a bit hesitant, I’m looking good,” Ron said.

Harry chuckled.

“It’s better than yours,” Ron said.

“Swotting it?” Harry asked.

He’s just jealous,” Ron said to Hermione.

Hermione, though, her eyes repeatedly traveled the handsome, a bit towering, still slender, figure standing in front of the mirror. Her smile showed her approval. Gia, though, turned her head toward Hermione, past Harry’s head.

“Dunno about you Hermione,” Gia said, “Could be a fluke, but how they talk the talk, can they even use their tools properly?”

Harry loosened his hands, buried his face in his pillow.

“If they could—” Hermione ran her forefingers under Harry’s ridge on the sheet below him, “—it’d take them a fortnight just to get moving.” Her hand returned to its grasping and massaging the head of Harry’s erection.

“Harry—” Ron whispered.

“I’m not interested in sucking on yours,” Harry replied.

Gia and Hermione broke out laughing as Ron blushed. Harry rolled a bit until he was nearly laying all the way up, but his firm flesh clearly cantered as Hermione’s hand was still toying with the dick.

Careful—” Ron warned.

All four watched Harry’s dick as Harry slightly contorted his face. In a surge, the hot lava from Harry started pulsing, the fountain squirted onto Hermione’s stomach and oozed down her hand.

“Hermione, what did you do?” Ron asked.

Gia broke out in laughter. Hermione blushed.

“Seems to work for me,” Harry said.

“Nice job there,” Ron said, bemused by the sight of his girlfriend having inadvertently given his best friend a hand–job.

“Stick to the self–admiration Ron,” Gia said.

Harry snorted.

“Maybe just the right book could help them,” Hermione said.

Ron groaned.

“Don’t worry Harry,” Gia said, “We’ll get you sorted out.”

“I think I know where it goes,” Harry said.

“Maybe we should make Hermione….say, purple?” Ron asked.

Hermione shook her head.

“Purple nipples?” Harry asked.

“Boys!” Hermione snapped.

“You made his dick BLUE!” Harry said.

“Just the head of it,” Hermione said.

“It stands out,” Harry said, “Make your features stand out. Gia, what color do you want to be?”

“Blonde!” Gia said.

“It’s a fresh day,” Hermione said, “I do want to see that Muggle science museum.”

“Come along you two,” Gia said, “And behave.”

“Behave?!” Harry sputtered, “I don’t want to behave.”

“Bare bottom spankings?” Gia asked.

“He’s up for those,” Ron said.

Hermione closed the distance.

SMACK!

“Hermione, don’t!” Harry retorted.

Ron turned around, bent over, and mooned Hermione.

“I’ll take that as an invitation,” Hermione said.

Harry laughed as he crawled off the bed.

“Harry!” Ron stammered, standing back up.

“Well, it was an invitation,” Harry said, “She’ll collect later.”

“Boys!” Hermione snapped.

“Best if we leave the room,” Harry said.

“Agreed,” Ron said.

Harry and Ron left the room, waited downstairs in the cafe.

“Do you really want to persuade Hermione into purple?” Harry asked.

“It’s not hiding a thing, more people look at my dick now!” Ron said.

“Your dick isn’t hiding it all,” Harry said, glancing at Ron’s dangling flesh, the glans exposed, “Blue that ought to be pink, stands out, it’s a fucking advertisement.”

“Obvious, isn’t it?” Ron said.

“Would it help if I stuck mine out?” Harry worked his foreskin, retracted it, to bring out his dark green glans.

“No,” Ron said.

They sat at a table.

“Go back up and read the bottle,” Harry said, “There’s a way to remove it.”

“Better not,” Ron said, “Besides, they’re in the shower.”

“So, we let it fade,” Harry said.

“Were you serious, about banging?” Ron asked.

“I see her, I see her charm, and her pussy,” Harry said, now playing with the salt shaker, “I want to, I fucking want to explore—I can’t.”

“You’re acting like that distinction matters, whether it matters that you’re still a virgin to her,” Ron said, “To anybody else, it doesn’t. You’re dating her—heck, you’re running around naked with her, and making no secret of your interest in her. That’s enough for anybody else to go on.”

“It matters to me,” Harry said.

“I know,” Ron said, his arms above his head, the blue armpit hair showing. “You’ve gotten yourself stuck. I’ll start pushing on you soon to get you unstuck, alright?”

“If you’re waiting to bang Hermione because of me—” Harry started.

“I can wait, for a little while,” Ron said, leaning forward on the table, “We’re heading to Paris, right? Hermione called that the city of love. We’ll get you over your hangup, alright? I swear I’ll do anything in my power to help you.”

“I don’t need you to fuck her,” Harry said.

“I may be broke but I can do this for you, I can push,” Ron said, “Your choice.”

“What choice?” Hermione asked, coming over to the table.

“Your new hair color,” Ron said.

“Brown,” Hermione said.

“Red and be a Weasley for a day,” Ron said.

* * *

After breakfast, when it was already becoming quite warm, the four left the hostel. Beads of sweat dripped down as Harry took the confident lead toward a series of shops. Ron’s blue eyes widened, lighting up as he saw the brown sign.

“Chocolate!” Ron exclaimed.

Harry chuckled.

“Erotic Chocolate?!” Hermione stammered.

Harry opened the door to “Chocolats Érotiques”, the blackened windows allowed the red illumination to maintain the atmosphere inside. Hermione picked up a chocolate dildo.

“Eww!” Ron said.

Meanwhile, Harry stopped in front of some vanilla chocolate breasts. His hands mimicked the ones on display, his fingers on the glass guard, before he turned and placed them over Gia’s.

“Yours are better,” Harry said.

Gia coughed.

“What about the sling shots?” Ron said, now next to Harry, looking at a display of lacey chocolate brassieres.

“Boys!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Like they’d ever grow out of it,” Gia said, “Hopeless. Reverse the charge though.”

Hermione looked at Gia and grinned.

“What?!” Harry demanded.

Gia shaped her hands as the breasts, pressed them against Harry’s chest. Harry sighed.

“Hers win the contest,” Ron said.

“Thanks,” Harry quipped.

Gia had already turned around and was admiring a light chocolate replica of the Greek statue David.

“Do they do status of anybody?” Gia asked.

“Yes,” said the shopkeeper, looking worried about this strange party, in broken English, “Anybody. Price depends. Pictures.”

Gia studied the price sheet.

“Yes,” the shop keeper said, “Costs.”

“Gia,” Ron said, “What are you planning?”

“Yes,” Gia said, ignoring Ron as she grabbed Harry, pulled him into view of the shop keeper, “Him.”

“Interesting idea,” Hermione said.

“Harry, I need the wallet,” Gia said.

Harry reached into his buttocks, pulled it out, and handed it to her.

A moment later, Gia flashed her credit card, and the shopkeeper nodded. After swiping it, he directed Harry and Gia into the back room. Ron, however, went and stood by Hermione.

“Who’d in their right mind—” Ron started.

“Dunno, it’s the holiday,” Hermione said, “If they want a chocolate statue, they’ll get a chocolate statue.”

A few minutes later, Harry and Gia returned; Gia filled out the paperwork while Harry stood next to Ron examining some liquid chocolate.

“You just consented to a statue,” Ron said, “You realize that, right?”

“It’s not like we’re going to carry it back,” Harry said, “Shipping it to Hermione’s house.”

“What?” Hermione said, glaring at Harry, “Realize the fits my parents would have should that much chocolate arrive.”

“Harry,” Ron said, as he watched Hermione roll her eyes over and over, “I’ll get a House–Elf to do it when we get to Hogwarts. Her parents might like it for their office.”

“Right,” Hermione said slowly, “You don’t know what a dentist does, do you?”

They left the shop.

“So, this statue’s going to have a stiffy?” Ron asked, glancing at Harry’s hard erection, the foreskin fully retracted to show off the slightly faded green glans.

“Supposedly both,” Harry said as his penis began to soften.

Ron spun around as they walked, moved to be walking backward ahead of the others.

“Gotta go!” Ron said, as he gripped his penis, and the torrent flowed, he aimed it at Harry.

“Ron!” Hermione snapped.

Harry giggled as the stream got his leg.

“He..” Ron moved the stream, lobbied the golden jet onto Harry’s foot.

“Boys!” Gia muttered.

“Doesn’t mean it’s—” Hermione protested.

“It’s over,” Ron said as his stream petered.

“Hold it out here,” Hermione said as she and Gia headed into a shop.

“She’s mean—” Ron started.

“You peed—” Harry said, “Thought you didn’t like peeing for—”

“Funny,” Ron said, “My willy doesn’t care anymore.”

Harry snorted.

“Figured a little water fight—” Ron said.

“Just remember,” Harry said, “You started it.” He deflected his own penis and allowed a darker yellow stream to get Ron.

CLICK!

Hermione was standing there, with a camera aimed at them.

“Hermione—” Ron protested.

“You might not like them—” Hermione said as she poked Harry’s chest, “But—we’re—I want to remember this trip too!”

CLICK!

“Yeah,” Gia said as she snapped a picture of Hermione poking Harry.

“But we’re—” Harry protested.

“A thousand cameras have likely captured your todgers already—we’d like copies too,” Hermione said, “And if that was really your concern—”

“Sorry,” Ron said.

“Pardon?” Harry asked.

“Sorry to the girls,” Ron said, “Just chill on it.”

Harry sighed as Gia brought her camera in close to his genitals, accepted the interest his _girlfriend_ showed in him.


	4. Paris

By Friday evening, they had made it to Luxembourg, where they approached an opera house.

“Doesn’t look fun,” Ron said.

“Gia and I will be watching the opera,” Hermione said, “You can meet us afterwards, or, at the hostel. You know where that is?”

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“We’ll see you later,” Hermione said as she and Gia entered the opera house.

Harry sprinted, kicked, his glasses wobbled as he kicked a small can that laid on the street; it skidded across and hit a lamp post.

Chink

Harry and Ron walked along the pavement, the heat blasting up at them, street lights shimmered on their skin; their armpits were soaked with sweat.

“Argh!” Ron exclaimed, “It’s boring without the girls!”

“We’ve had fun before without them,” Harry said, “Play with our wands?”

Ron was unsure which wand Harry was referring to, but played it safe.

“In full view of the Muggles?” Ron asked.

Harry got close to Ron, his nose flared.

“Alright,” Harry said, “Flying.”

“Hardly an improvement,” Ron said.

“Get drunk?” Harry asked.

“Blimey! I’m turning into Hermione!” Ron exclaimed.

“Boxing then,” Harry said, stepping up to an advertisement on a lamp post, “Come on.”

Harry sped up, Ron followed.

“What is boxing?” Ron asked.

“Just wait,” Harry said.

Sweat was rolling from parts that they hadn’t realized could sweat, the beads dribbled off of them as they approached a shady building. Light gave a faint rainbow effect from the droplets dripping from Harry’s foreskin, though it wasn’t urination.

“I’ve already sent several to the hospital for heat exhaustion,” the guard said, “So I’ll overlook—are you eighteen?” He studied Harry, whose round glasses had beads of sweat running down them.

“Yes,” Harry said, reaching into his butt crack before handing the guard a banknote.

“What?” Ron asked.

“It’s…” Harry started as they entered, however, stopped as the young crowd drowned them out.

Harry and Ron squeezed into the crowd toward the back; Ron could see over the heads, but Harry was shorter.

“My shoulders,” Ron said, squatting.

“Thanks,” Harry said as he took the jump, sat on Ron’s shoulders. Ron could feel the testicles and the penis being pushed against the back of the neck, but chose to ignore it.

Though some glanced, few seemed to notice or care about Harry or Ron be stark naked; most of the crowd was already shirtless, including some of the young women letting their breasts out, all covered in sweat. Ron pressed inward into the tight crowd, ignored the stray hands that were inadvertently brushing against his pubics, his genitals, as nothing was said.

A scantily clad young woman, with blond hair, played referee to the two male contestants in the ring. The match had yet to start, so her hands were feeling into their tight jockstraps as their hands felt the breasts whose secrets were protected by a thin strap in lieu of a bra. Neither bloke in front of Ron complained about Ron’s hard erection now bumping their hips, nor did Ron pay attention to that, as his eyes were on the stage, tracing the thin line of the cloth on the woman.

One at a time, the two male contestants pressed the tent poles of their jockstraps against the hard point sticking out of the young woman’s thin fabric over her crotch. Cheers came from the crowd as the bell rang, and their wrapped fists started to punch. At first the punches went to the ribcages, the shoulders, before the punches moved downward and aimed for the jockstraps. The blond with the blue jockstrap survived the punch. However, the taller brown haired boy’s red jockstrap ripped, and he blushed as the scrotum hung freely, dangling beneath the partially draped firm uncut column, but he continued on; his jockstrap was quickly removed by the young woman muttering about “health and safety”. Cheers let up from the girls at the new sight of the fellow’s pubic hair.

“Can’t knowingly punch there—” the bloke behind Harry mentioned to another.

“What type—” Ron quipped at Harry.

Even with his cock curving slightly upward, scrotum loose, and edge trimmed pubic hair, wearing nothing save his gloves, the brown hair punched again, this time getting the opponent’s ribcage. The eyes of the blond betrayed his attention, darting frequently to avoid accidental contact, missed seeing the left clip getting his face. Seeking to quickly level the playing field, the blond crouched to the cock level of his opponent, before he sprang upward with a right, flinching as the force tore the remaining jockstrap. As the young woman relieved that second contestant of his blue jockstrap, it became evident from the dark untrimmed pubic hair that the blond of the head was a bleach job.

“And any moment—” the one to Ron’s left started to mutter.

The tall brown haired contestant took another swing, straight for the gut. Nearly immediately, the blond boy bent over, and cheers erupted as the brown sludge began to drop and a squirt of gold pee shot forward. A moment later, the tall brown boy had pushed the cloth off their referee’s crotch, exposing the labia, the clitoris; even more cheers came as he brought the hard cock to push against the folds of skin, about to thrust inward.

Ron felt Harry’s legs really twitching; he glanced up at Harry’s shaking face, the eyes twitching but fixated, mouth starting to move. Ron moved, carried Harry still sitting on his shoulders, out of the crowd. Ron squatted to let Harry down, before standing again. Ron’s eyes studied Harry’s, the bottle green eyes were still glazed over, the jaw rapidly moving up and down. Ron placed his right arm around Harry, the left on the other shoulder.

“Harry,” Ron said, “Come on.”

“All that…” Harry muttered, coming with Ron, “All so pointless.”

They reached the exit.

“What’s the matter?” shouted a young man, nearby, “Babies can’t take a punch?”

Ron ignored the man, guided Harry.

“Harry,” Ron said, “Come on.”

The man walked, followed Harry and Ron for a short distance.

“Gay babies need a lesson in manners!”

Ron turned his head to the man, fist at the ready. Ron channeled his anger into a bit of wandless magic; the man tripped and collapsed onto the pavement. Ron guided Harry to a park, a nice park, with benches and a fountain in the middle. Ron lowered Harry to one of the benches near the fountain, his balls hung off the edge. Ron felt Harry’s forehead, much warmer than Ron liked.

“Cool off,” Ron said, grabbing Harry and pulling him over to the decorative fountain, into the shower of cold water.

“Hermione cleaned us this morning,” Harry said.

“So, what did that remind you of?” Ron asked; he had a hunch.

“You’re prying,” Harry replied.

“It reminded you of something,” Ron said, “Spit it out the easy way.”

“Hogwarts,” Harry said.

Ron knew what Harry was talking about, the brutal violence the Death Eaters had staged during their temporary occupation of the school at the end of their fifth year, fights to the death of the victims over minor design points to their new Hogwarts crest.

“So, why bother going to this?” Ron asked.

“Dunno,” Harry said, “Dudley watches it a lot.”

“Lets get to the girls, even if it means a bit of…” Ron said.

“Don’t say it,” Harry said.

Harry and Ron returned to the opera house. With the show nearly over, Harry and Ron slipped in. They pushed Hermione and Gia apart as they sat.

“So,” Hermione said, “You still claim this isn’t interesting?”

“Maybe it’s you,” Ron said, softly, “Did you realize that Harry goes through a painful withdrawal every time he’s separated from Gia?”

“I can only imagine,” Hermione said dryly as she rolled her eyes.

* * *

It was shortly before noon on Saturday when they caught the train to Paris.

“I’m hungry,” Ron said.

Gia grabbed the wallet from Harry, joined Ron in heading for the dining car. Harry, however, had his eyes on Hermione’s, and hers were fleeting about, avoiding him.

“Hermione,” Harry said.

She forced her eyes onto his bottle green eyes. Harry spread his legs apart, brought the feet onto the seat so his legs were bent, and pushed them apart.

“Look at my dick,” Harry said.

“Pardon?” Hermione asked.

“You’re still uneasy—” Harry said, “Just give it, say an hour—” he moved his right hand, which caused her eyesight to drift downward, “Yes, an hour and a roll of parchment, give me the number of pubic hairs, their locations, and where. Include a nice description of everything.”

“You!” Hermione snapped.

“Just watch these,” Harry said as he momentarily grabbed his genitals, “I think it’ll do you good.”

“Always a reason,” Hermione said.

Hermione, however, did not wish to disappoint her friend, and her instinct to not to look was overcome by the curiosity of the count; her eyes started with the right edge of his thick crop of pubic hair, mostly still a faded bottle green but with black roots. A slight jiggle from a rough rail resulted in her attention going to his soft penis with the fading green showing as his foreskin was retracted. A minute later, her eyes flickered to notice the hairs growing in his scrotum, similar to what she’s seen in Ron’s, but this was Harry, her best friend, not her partner. She shivered slightly when his sausage started to enlarge, his eyes were aimed down the corridor where Gia was returning.

“Interrupting?” Gia asked.

Harry shook his head, his eyes returned toward Hermione’s. Hers caught his glance, his eyebrows moving, so she returned her concentration back to his growing erection. Harry gripped his hard flesh with his fingers, his eyes were primarily focused on Gia, however, he was frequently checking Hermione’s eyes. Hermione did as he had asked, kept her eyes on his sexuality, as he gripped his shaft, as his foreskin slipped up and down, repeatedly, the green glans exposed and hidden with his overt masturbatory motion; his testicles seemed to grow, turned pinker, until his ridge underneath pumped in volume.

It wasn’t until Harry’s first wad of semen that Hermione understood Harry’s point. Hermione was concerned with her own exposure and the possible misinterpretation as being naked could often do. She realized that Harry didn’t want this to bother them, that he was getting a thrill of simply sharing himself with his friends, he didn’t wish to hide it from her; for if he were concerned, he already had plenty of options of covering up, and nobody would’ve said a word. Instead, he was more concerned that she was offended as he kept showing off the sticky evidence of his orgasm.

“I think I need a drink,” Hermione said.

“Sure,” Harry said.

Hermione got up, went down the corridor, contemplating it all. Harry hadn’t changed since she had first met him; well, he had grown, obviously, but that boy was still in there, desiring her and Ron as friends, unconditionally loving them and seeking that love in return. Sure, he had blood relatives, but those weren’t his family, not his real family. She and Ron had become his family, and Gia was coming into the fold too; Harry had no other and was eager to share. Hermione strolled back from the dining car carrying her light wine, and she gave it a small sip.

“Nice outfit.” Hermione felt a light slap against her buttocks.

“Pardon—?!” Hermione started as she turned toward a young man looking her over.

“Sorry,” he said, sheepishly, his eyes tried to avoid the candy, “Why are you—”

“Like I was going to talk to a complete stranger—”

“Did he kick you out?”

“No—” Hermione said, “…nothing like…”

“Didn’t mean to—is it interesting?” While his shorts kept his erection wrapped, its form caused him to blush upon realizing that she glanced upon it. He adjusted his shorts, scrunching them in the hope that the folds in the fabric would blend it into his thigh. “Sorry—if this bothers…”

“My boyfriend—”

“Oh.” He sunk down in the seat, his short blond hair failed to hide his deepening pink blushing. “He shouldn’t force—”

Hermione snorted, the first bit of wine was already working, and she sat onto the back edge of the seat in front of him. She gave another sip of her wine, before she had the urge to dump on a stranger.

“While he encouraged—my fault really,” Hermione said, “Not that we planned for the prank—”

“Prank—” He said as he raised his eyebrows.

“Gia and I—we had wanted to—” Hermione said, “We got them—so we thought—pranking them into some streaking and we intended to get them—”

“Them?” the boy asked, his eyes drifted across her breasts.

“My school chums, Harry and Ron,” Hermione said, “We were going—after the first train—hectic and packed. They…don’t know why they didn’t… long story short, our loads got lightened.”

He snorted as he glanced at her folds, he rearranged the cramped flesh and allowed his gray briefs to poke the tent pole out of the front flap of his shorts.

“Haven’t the police—” he started.

“Dunno why they haven’t—” she said as she studied the slender chest form of his T–shirt, “We’ve passed numerous—some happy with issuing citations—well, until somebody complains—”

“Doubt they would—” the boy blurted.

“Several days ago—you staring—I would’ve—it’s still—I’m aware…you like looking—”

“I’m not a perv—” the boy said, defensively.

“Aren’t acting gay—” Hermione said as she leaned back momentarily.

“You’re acting—” the boy quipped.

“Be careful with your todger—” Hermione started.

“Is he bugging you?” Ron asked as he came up.

The boy clenched the gray cloth wrapping his statue as he saw Ron’s bright blue pubic hair and the normal genitals with his dark blue glans coming into view.

“Did I catch the wrong train—Paris??” the boy stuttered.

“My arse will be the cleanest part,” Ron stated.

Hermione snorted.

“Admiring?” Ron asked.

“N—No—Definitely—” the boy stuttered in a trembled voice.

“Then I’m offended,” Ron said, “She’s…” He let his snake grow a bit as he glanced at the nipples and half crescent of Hermione’s breasts.

“Didn’t mean to—” the boy said, his blush grew deep, his hand massaged over the gray statue.

“So why—” asked a girl sitting behind Hermione, in the next row over.

“Ron—” Hermione started.

“Checking up on you,” Ron whispered, “Missing naked chick—”

“Don’t press your luck—” Hermione snapped.

“Come back when you’re done,” Ron said. Ron let his erection fly with pride as his flexing buttocks were studied as he left the compartment. Hermione retreated, her eyes caught the grimace of the boy, but turned her attention to the girl.

“You’re casual—” the girl said.

The boy sighed and both girls looked over. A light liquid oozed through the gray fabric and he pulled down at the hem of his shorts to catch the last of his ejaculation surging into a puddle trail in his pubic hair.

“It’d be worse if you walk,” Hermione said as she turned back to the girl, “Better mop up—”

“He just used you—” the girl a noticed him tearing at his briefs, “—and you—”

Hermione slid down into the seat opposite the twenty year old girl, the dark blouse was a bit billowy about the big frame.

“Does it bother—” Hermione said, “A little, but I’m focused on ignoring—”

“How—”

“You’re focusing on the negatives,” Hermione said, “I suppose it’s liberating—not certain exactly why it feels better. And watching that bloke—great fun as todgers fail to lie.”

“Hanging your knockers out—”

“Deflate their imaginations gently,” Hermione said, she noted as the boy attempted to hide his stiffy as he stood, “The first hour was perhaps the worst—worried about what others thought—now I just hope it’s brushed—”

“It’s alright,” the girl said.

“And by—” the boy started to reach.

SLAP!

The boy withdrew his hand.

“You’re inviting—” the girl said.

“My fingernails can slice his sack, his own self–interest,” Hermione said, “—let’s demonstrate—”

“Not necessary,” the boy said as he quickly left the compartment to their giggles.

“Would you really—” the girl asked.

“I shall defend myself, as needed,” Hermione said, “If they abuse things, they lose them.”

“Fair enough,” the girl said.

Hermione stood, found her way back to Ron, Harry, and Gia. Both Ron and Harry were standing in front of Gia, spread legs, to show off their jiggling testicles. Hermione sat, watched, and found both boys showing them to her too. She smiled, and both boys returned the smile. Hermione had to admit to herself that she and Gia did want to see more of Ron and Harry on the trip, and they were getting much more than they had bargained on. She realized that Harry was spot on, that they shouldn’t care one way or the other, but simply enjoy the company, something she was going have difficulties doing.

* * *

After a delay, the train stopped in Paris in the early evening, and they went out through the turnstiles.

“Oh!” Hermione said, “I was really meaning to—”

“We can use one of their loos—” Harry said, pointing at a restroom with a price tag displayed on it.

“Not quite that desperate,” Hermione said.

They had learned to ignore the glances, which they kept ignoring as they left the station. A half mile later, Ron stumbled and lifted his foot.

“Starkers isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be,” Ron said as he pried some gum off his sole.

“Others might say it’s definitely cracked up,” Harry said as he glanced at Ron’s buttock for a quick moment.

“Not funny,” Ron stated.

“Nor is having to use—” Hermione said as she started to hop.

“We offered—” Ron snapped.

“I didn’t anticipate—” Hermione protested.

“Then go here—” Harry said.

“It might attract—” Hermione said.

“How?!” Harry spun around as the fellow pedestrians kept surveying them as they passed. “We’re already starkers—”

“He’s got—” Gia snapped.

“That’s nice of you!” Hermione retorted.

Ron pushed on Hermione’s shoulders; she didn’t resist the urge to squat in the middle of the sidewalk. A trickle started as some other young adolescent males grinned and snickered as the stream came forth. Neither Ron nor Harry kept their snakes tame, nor did they hide their stiffening dicks as the golden shower sprinkled and coursed onto the concrete.

“Ta,” Hermione said, sarcastically, as she glanced at the hard erections.

“It’s a beautiful sight,” Ron observed as the puddle was ebbing toward the road.

“Why stop?” Gia noticed Hermione attempting to halt the flow.

“We concur,” one of the adolescent males said, his camera took a picture. Hermione pulled her labia apart and allowed the remainder to dribble out. She glared at Ron as she stood up fast.

“Are you done?” Ron asked.

“Yes!” Hermione snapped, angrily, as she resumed walking.

“No time wasted looking for a toilet,” Harry said, matter of factly, as the continued.

“Not the most friendly—” Hermione said.

“Send them a bill for power washing—” Gia said, “Likely the cleanest—”

“Yep,” Harry said.

Hermione glared at Harry, his sausage loosened and started to drop.

“No soiled trousers—” Harry started.

“I didn’t said I—” Hermione protested.

“So,” Gia said, changing the topic, “Where are we headed—”

As Harry and Hermione sorted out a map at a bus stop, Ron took a backward push and put him onto the back of an occupied bench for the bus.

he lady did not move, but merely glanced as Ron’s buttocks and scrotum dangled over the bench as he thighs supported him on the bench back.

“I suppose we’re trying to find a spot to sleep?” Ron asked.

“How observant,” Hermione said.

“First order of business,” Harry said.

Ron ignored the pressure buildup as a bus came to a halt by the bench, the lady stood.

Pfffpt! Pfffpt!

“If you need to use the loo—” Hermione started, seeing the passengers on the bus watching Ron’s butt.

“We were already…” Ron stopped as the first round of sludge moved, started to creep out of him as he began to defecate.

“Um…” Gia said, “There’s a difference—”

“Not that I’m condoning—” Harry said as the long turd slowly descended from Ron’s arse, “—however, when he’s got to go—”

Ron’s face turned a deep pink as the first long chunk broke off and the next one kept coming through.

“Feel better?” Hermione asked.

“Ta—” Ron muttered.

“No point in stopping until you’re done,” Harry observed.

A constable walked past them as Ron continued, the eyes glanced at the sludge piling up, but continued down the road.

“Now that’s just creepy,” Harry said.

Ron continued for another minute before it became small chunks and he halted it.

“We know where we want to go,” Hermione stated

Ron hopped off the bench and they continued.

“We saved time,” Ron said.

* * *

Ron snuck out of the room that evening, found his way onto the closed roof cafe, came to a table, when he reached into his butt crack to pull out the journal, quill, and ink; he sat. Under the aura of the glow of street lights on the pollution above, Ron began to write.

6 July 1996

Yep, something is definitely a miss. I took a crap on that bench in full view of a copper; like he saw it but took no action. I’m hesitant to tell Harry that Dumbledore is interfering—or watching—but whatever the reason, it’s definitely nice.

Maybe this is what it takes to coax Harry to let his guard down enough to finally bang Gia?

* * *

Sunday morning, they came to the queue for entrance into the Louvre , Hermione surveyed the line.

“Breakfast should not have waited,” Hermione said.

“Go get something,” Harry said, “It’s not like this is going that fast—you’ve got time. We’ll keep your place.”

Gia joined Hermione in wandering off.

“Can’t believe they persuaded us—” Harry said to Ron.

“I know, I know…” Ron paused and urinated where he stood, the stream wobbled slightly, “But hey—it is faster to not worry about it.”

“True,” Harry said, “Just like you’re not concerned—”

“Like it?” Ron said, watching Harry roll his eyes, “Pooping for show is tough the first time or two—”

“Not certain if—” Harry said, “Thanks a lot, now I—”

“It’s not as if the streets are clean,” Ron said.

“There’s more—” Harry said.

“Quit whining,” Ron stated as he pulled on Harry’s shoulders. Harry squatted and felt his pressure move. Others in the queue curled their noses as Harry let his turds move. He finished up with a slight power wash and stood back up.

“You’re right—” Harry said, “Much faster than finding a loo.”

The queue started to move as Gia and Hermione came back. Harry let his dick go first as it raised to attention, beneath the nearly black pubic hair as the green was nearly gone. Ron shrugged, his dick firmed up too.

“Glad you missed us,” Hermione said.

“You might want to think about using it,” Gia said to Harry.

“It likes the sunshine,” Harry said, smiling.

They entered the Louvre and went down the escalator.

“What about flying?” Ron asked.

“These things don’t fly,” Hermione said.

Harry laughed.

“It’s not funny,” Hermione said.

“Yes it is,” Harry replied.

“It’s a nice place,” Gia said, wrapping her arms around Harry from behind, pushing her breasts into him, and putting her chin on his shoulder.

“Yeah, it can be,” Harry said as her hands cradled his testicles, her thumbs rested on his penis, “Carry on.”

“You do that,” Ron said, “He needs… _the talk_.”

Harry and Gia took off into the corridors.

“You had to say that,” Hermione said.

“Well, he does,” Ron said, “They’ve got the hots but Harry’s not willing to commit.”

Hermione clearly had a bucket list as she brought Ron onto the elevator, they went up to the third floor. She led Ron into the Salle des États room, coming to a stop in front of the famous painting, the Mona Lisa .

“It’s so dull,” Ron said, “They don’t even move.”

“Muggle paintings,” Hermione said, “Of course they don’t move.”

“They ought to move,” Ron said.

Ron moved slowly with Hermione. Harry, meanwhile, kept pace with Gia, who was a bit less interested in the artwork and more into her company. They came to a halt in the room with the Greek statues.

“Gotta catch me!” Gia exclaimed, breaking into a run.

Harry ran, kept his pace, as watching her buttocks flex was interesting. His erection came fast as she ran through the exhibits, up the stairs. Harry chased, until they came into a section of decorative arts, furniture. Harry tackled her, they fell onto the antique sofa, putting her on her back, him on top. Harry’s hard cock touched her folds, but he stopped, let it rest, and leaned in, forward, on top of her, and kissed.

“Whatchya waiting for?” Gia said, “I’m not staying put.”

Harry eased up, let her slip, gave her a moment, before following. They ran among the paintings on the second floor, ran along the first past Ron and Hermione. Harry, however, kept running.

“Blimey!” Ron muttered.

They ran back down the steps, coming to the Greek statues, where Gia came to a fast halt. Harry wrapped himself around her back, letting his hard erection tease her buttocks, his hands held her breasts.

“Proper athletes,” Gia said.

Harry studied the naked statues.

“Guess so,” Harry said.

“Doesn’t that give you ideas?” Gia said, turning around to face Harry.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“Let yourself go,” Gia said, “I want you to indulge yourself with me, but you’re a damn monk!”

“We’ve done more,” Harry said.

“Then prove it,” Gia said, “I need a sign from you that there is more than a bit of fun and games, that you’re more serious.”

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” Harry said.

“I’m willing to take that chance,” Gia said, “Are you?”

“I know the consequences,” Harry said, he hugged her tight, pushed his head against her large breasts.

“Jump,” Gia said as she held onto his hard erection, “And avoid the consequences.”

“It’s tough,” Harry replied.

“You’re clearly interested,” Gia said, her fingers worked his glans a bit, “How far can you go? Care to find out?”

“I do love you,” Harry said.

“I need proof, Mr. Hairy Harry,” Gia said, “Catch.”

Gia twisted out of Harry’s grip and ran, up the stairs; Harry followed. They pushed between the crowds, raced through the rooms, passed Ron and Hermione, again, and kept running. Gia knew how ridiculous this was, making Harry chase her, his hard erection swinging and swaying in the eyes of many, the testicles bobbing around, as they kept making laps of the museum; they returned to the floor with the naked Greek statues, where Harry sprinted, held her tight. Harry kissed her.

“How much longer am I going to have to wait?” Gia asked.

They walked along, to the Egyptian artifacts section.

“It will come,” Harry promised, “Here.”

Harry pulled Gia down to the floor; people yielded, as he straddled her. He brought his tongue into her mouth as they kissed. He arched his back, lowering his buttocks, and let his balls rest on her stomach, erection aimed toward her.

“Until then,” Harry said.

Harry had to lift his head as he pushed himself forward, resting the hard cock between her tits. She pressed them together, and Harry flexed his hips to let his erection drill, under the watchful eyes of the crowd around them. Harry felt the spasms start, followed by the release of the pressure, when his beads of white drenched her chin and her neck.

“Better?” Harry asked.

“It’s not in me,” Gia said, “You need to satisfy me.”

“Soon,” Harry said, “Soon.”

Harry moved his groin, brought the softening cock to her lips. Gia kissed the semen coated pink glans, the dye having faded away.

“Dull,” Ron said, standing nearby and pretending to be more interested in the tombs, “I’ve seen better in Egypt. These have been stripped.”

“You tell the curator,” Harry said, “I think it’s about time for dinner, meet you back at our room, Gia and I need a little privacy.”

“Oh, now you need it, alright,” Ron said, pretending he hadn’t seen their public display, “See you later.”

Ron eventually found Hermione, they left, had dinner, before returning to their hotel room near the Eiffel Tower. Harry was standing there, watching out of the window, every strand of his hair was now bright yellow.

“Again?” Hermione asked.

“Turn around,” Gia said to Harry.

Harry turned, showed that Gia did not miss a strand, including his head, his armpits, his arm hairs, his pubic hairs, and even the ones on his legs. He retracted his foreskin, showing the deep yellow glans.

“Quit that Harry,” Ron said, “Blue was bad enough.”

“Gryffindor colors,” Hermione suggested.

“She might turn you red,” Harry said.

“I’m already red!” Ron stammered.

“No, more of a purple,” Gia said.

“Thanks!” Ron snapped.

* * *

Ron left the loo shortly after midnight when Gia headed toward the door of the hotel room; she twisted the knob and left. Harry and Hermione were quiet, sleeping in in the bed, as Ron followed Gia out.

“Doesn’t matter,” Gia said.

“Yes it does,” Ron said as they left the hotel.

“I just needed to clear my head, to think,” Gia said.

“Fine, I’ll keep quiet,” Ron said.

“Doubt you could manage that,” Gia said.

“Don’t leave my sight,” Ron stated.

“You guys are always doing that!” Gia snapped.

“Here, let’s sit,” Ron said, pointing to a small lawn.

They sat, side by side, on the grass.

“Harry doesn’t want any of us being by ourselves, especially you,” Ron said, “He loves you, he simply loves you, and he cherishes you. He’s worried, of course, that something’ll happen to you because you’re his girlfriend. To him, that final act to seal the deal, it’ll seal your fate too, and he doesn’t want that to happen.”

“Has he told you what I’ve told him, that I need commitment?” Gia said, “I’m trusting myself to him and he needs to understand that.”

“It’ll happen,” Ron said, “Maybe that was his point in the trip? Still, you’re already known as his girlfriend, so things will change.”

“You keep mentioning that,” Gia said, “He’s well known—”

Ron snorted.

“I think there’s something you need to see,” Ron said, “He won’t like it, of course.”

“What?” Gia asked.

“I’m needling him too,” Ron said, “You deserve him, and—it’s a bit selfish.”

“You’re being selfish?” Gia asked.

“We’re friends and all, but if he seals the deal with you, means I’m definitely clear with Hermione,” Ron said, “Can’t have us both claiming her.”

“Aw,” Gia said, “That explains you.”

“Not really, he’s still my friend, I want him to be happy with you,” Ron said

* * *

They left the Arc De Triomphe , rode the metro, and walked away from the Notre Dame Cathedral . They passed one man using a wall as a loo, and were laughing. Harry was walking backward, in front of Gia, fingers on his penis, peeing, as Gia skipped out of the target. A block later, a few from Notre Dame, they came to a faded black door along with a small faded black wall and covered dirty windows. Gia’s fingers had already teased Harry’s erection to jut firmly outward.

“Must be it,” Ron said.

“Must be what?” Harry asked.

A faded black sign with a pointed hat momentarily shined to life as they came to it, it read, Chapeau Raccordé .

“Harry, you’ve got to see this,” Hermione said, “It’s their equivalent to the Leaky Cauldron. Fancy a look?”

Hermione pushed the door open; they entered an old looking pub with a big fireplace to one end. People in robes and cloaks glared at these strangers, the old man behind the bar pointed a wand at the naked teenagers.

“Vous n’étes pas voulu, ne sortez pas!”

“Huh?” Ron said.

“Muggles are not welcome,” Hermione whispered.

“We’re naked—” Harry muttered.

“Now you want to dress?” Hermione snapped, quiet but terse.

“Muggles are not welcome,” the barkeeper said, repeating Hermione’s translation, still holding his wand.

“I’m a Wizard,” Harry said, “We stumbled across this place and fancied a look.”

Harry reached into his butt and pulled out his wand, eyes moved from his yellow pubic hair to his holly wand as he levitated a nearby saucer. Several nearby witches giggled as the wand was near his hard erection, foreskin retracted, with his dyed glans with a bit of pink on his slit showing.

“Sorry,” the barkeeper said, putting his wand away, “You look like Muggles, your hair and all.”

“Trying to blend in,” Hermione said, “With those outside.”

A lady who was sitting at the bar asked, “Where are you from?”

“England,” Harry said.

“There’s more to this,” Hermione whispered, pointing.

Harry had a sense of trepidation start to brew in him; one word that he was the _Harry Potter_ , and his hard erection would become front page news. Outside, they were anonymous, among muggles; here, one bad utterance and his measurements would become gossip. Harry was disappointed, the fear, the nerves, instead fueled his penis, the penis wanted to bask in the attention; the eyes surveyed, sized him up, watched as his flesh swung up and down, with such curiosity that one might think the crowd had never seen a penis before. Harry’s stiffness drew more attention than Ron’s soft penis dangling as they walked, made for the back.Hermione opened the back door, the entered a small, fenced in, courtyard, too small to comfortably fit the four of them. Hermione tapped her wand on the brick wall, and the walls pulled apart to show the rows of shops.

“Smaller than Diagon,” Ron said.

“Same idea,” Harry said, “Look!” He pointed at Quality Quidditch Supplies, Paris .

“Remember,” Gia said, now holding Harry’s hard cock, “Want to get rid of that?”

“In a bit,” Harry said.

Harry and Ron went into Quality Quidditch Supplies . Meanwhile, Gia and Hermione continued.

“Need any gift ideas?” Hermione asked.

Gia shook her head before they stopped in front of another shop, Unofficial Harry Potter Fan Club Outlet Direct .

“Didn’t realize—” Gia said as she and Hermione entered.

“He knows you love him,” Hermione said, “Though you can always read up.”

They were in front of a display of literature. Gia picked up a glossy Harry Potter Quarterly , opened it, revealing hundreds of pictures of her and Harry.

“Where’d they get these?” Gia said, putting it back aside.

“A determined witch gets her way, unfortunately,” Hermione said.

“I’d like to understand him,” Gia said, touching the Understanding Harry Potter leather bound book by Doris Crockford in English and French, “How does he cope?” Next to the leather book was Speculation on Harry Potter’s Victory .

“Dunno really,” Hermione said, “Though you could get a scar too—”

Gia snorted.

“Really.” Hermione pointed at the racks of various articles for a person to look like Harry Potter, from the raven black wigs in assorted sizes to glasses to scar tattoos to Hogwarts robes with the Gryffindor lion and beyond. “Let’s show him.”

“I don’t think that’d be a good idea,” Ron said, entering.

“This place?” Harry said, following Ron in, “Quality was better!”

“Yes, but there’s a couple points of beauty here,” Ron said, stepping to stand behind Hermione.

“I figured she might be interested in some reading,” Hermione said, “Think the bookstore has better.”

Hermione and Gia made for the exit. Harry and Ron were nearly there when the witch behind the counter spoke, an adult witch with a youthful face and flowery robes.

“You must be new,” a witch coming out from behind the counter said, “Why not try a wig to get your hair just right.”

Ron grabbed a raven black and wild haired wig from the stacks in the organized bins sorted by head size. The witch kept her eyes on the hard erection.

“No,” Harry said, “My hair looks right.”

“You’ve obviously got the scar tattoo and the glasses,” the witch said, “if you’ve went this far, you should go all the way to look like Harry Potter, which means black hair.”

“No,” Ron said, “I think that means yellow hair right now.”

“Need a scar?” the witch asked, pointing to the box of rub–on tattoos next to boxes of round glasses and wigs.

“Nope,” Ron said, “We’ll be leaving.”

Ron took a step, bumped into a rack of black Hogwarts robes with the Gryffindor lion, the rack came crashing down.

“So,” the witch asked Ron, “you think you know Harry Potter better? I can tell you that I’ve studied him since, well, the incident with You–Know–Who.”

“You mean,” Harry said, “Voldemort.”

The witch flinched and said, “You said his name!”

“Of course he did,” Ron said, “Harry always does.”

Harry said, “Ron—”

“My, my,” the witch said, “We have two fans acting the roles, including Potter’s sidekick friend Weasley. However, you don’t quite seem to get it. Are you members of UHP?”

She grabbed a couple of membership forms and packets from the right edge of the counter.

“Members?” Harry said, “Why would I be a member of my own fan club?”

“Great impersonation,” the witch said, “Can I interest you in a statue? Briefs maybe? Or his school Quidditch robes?” She pointed to the various object to include a marble statue of what somebody thought a nude Harry would look like. Other statues were there, such as smaller ones of Harry on a Firebolt during Quidditch. “Harry Potter doesn’t run around naked.”

“A gift from Harry Potter,” Harry said, “Since you can’t tell the real one from a fake.”

Harry gripped his erection, aimed, and peed. He zigzagged the stream across her flowery robes, marking them, as her eyes began to flash. Ron grabbed Harry, dragged him out of the shop, still pissing.

“That was getting to me,” Harry said.

“I know,” Ron said, ushering Harry toward the bookshop. They entered.

Flesh was easy to spot, and they found Hermione and Gia near the Muggle Relations section. Harry sneaked up on Gia from behind, placed his hard erection between her legs.

“Planning to use that Mister?” Gia asked.

“Just trying it on for size,” Harry said.

“Go back outside and shout out your name,” Hermione said, “You’d get plenty of assistance and some pictures to capture the moment, maybe even that witch would give you a prop or two.”

“I don’t need help!” Harry said.

“You’re fooling me,” Gia said.

“It’ll happen,” Harry said.

“When?” Gia asked.

“It will, I promise!” Harry said, “Enough of that, I’m done here.”

“You get to carry anything you buy,” Ron said to Hermione.

“I was hoping for a gift, Ron,” Hermione said.

“Yeah, but not today,” Ron said.

“It’s getting hot here,” Harry said, “Gia, lets go.”

Harry made the first steps to leave the bookshop, Gia followed. Ron and Hermione carried up the rear.

“There you are,” said the witch from the previous shop, “Take this.” She offered a Guide to Being Harry Potter . “It’ll help you smarten up your act.”

“NO!” Harry chucked the book to the ground before they returned to the pub. Quickly, they left for muggle Paris.

“It’s fucking annoying,” Harry said loudly, “Soo many people on this planet think they know me better than I do!”

“Most are wrong,” Ron said, “Take that statue, it’s obvious the sculptor never really saw you. The chest was a pathetic attempt and the todger—nothing on you.”

“Which one was better?” Gia asked as they crossed an intersection.

“Marble is soo cold,” Ron said, “You’d prefer the real ones.”

“You never answered her question,” Harry asked, “Your opinion?”

“Mate,” Ron said, “Which do you _think_ is better?”

“The statue,” Hermione said, a stern look was on her face.

That earned Hermione a thump on the arm from Harry.

“You’re the one who thought to show me that!” Harry snapped.

“Totally overdone,” Gia said, “To get the true Harry, why bother with the clothes?”

They turned right.

“Did they realize that was you or were they more interested in your dick?” Hermione asked.

“Hermione!” Harry snapped.

“Dress if it bothers you,” Hermione said.

“Actually,” Ron said, “It’s bloody brilliant—”

“Ronald—” Hermione started.

“It is!” Ron turned to give Harry a couple of light fists to the left shoulder. “With everybody looking at the penis—nobody was checking the forehead.”

“Now it’s security?!” Hermione exclaimed.

“It’s brilliant, this is,” Harry said, as he snorted with partial laughter, “Going incognito by flashing my genitals to everybody! Like nobody notices us going naked—”

“Oh they do notice that we’re stark naked, so don’t get me wrong,” Ron said, “And I hope they like what they see—meanwhile, that’s their focus—because your—sorry—your scar gives you away mate. Pubic hair, though—don’t shave it away, because it helps draw the eyes, fast.”

“He’s got a point,” Gia said, smiling.

With that, they started counting the number of times their features were examined as they passed people by.

“One,” Harry said, pointing.

“Two to five,” Ron said, pointing to a small group of teenagers, a boy and three girls.

They were over a hundred when they came to a busy intersection where they paused for the pedestrian signal. A middle aged lady was standing there when she started to steal glances at Harry’s hard penis, the one Gia had touched once again to keep firm; Harry caught onto this and snickered. The lady glanced again, so Harry turned, arched back a bit, pointed, drawing her eyes on her blushing face onto his hard cock. Harry wobbled his hips, the cock bounced, her eyes tried to avoid but kept feasting for more. Harry gripped, her eyes still on his slit as the liquid seeped, a trickle started, the light of the impending sunset glimmered off his golden surge; her eyes locked on as his jet stream flowed, when the walk signal went. She kept glancing as he started to cross, the stream wobbled and came to a trickle as he urinated in the crosswalk. She came to a stop to wait for the next signal while Harry kept his group moving forward.

Ron snorted.

“How many dozens saw you” Ron asked.

“It’s a contest?!” Hermione stammered.

“Shouldn’t we stop worrying about this?” Gia asked.

“I had to go!” Harry snapped.

“Just stop this nonsense!” Gia said, “It’s just easier—”

“Sorry,” Hermione muttered.

Harry was the first into shower when they came back to their hotel room.

“It’s clear he wants to, but he’s not,” Gia said.

“There are spells, potions that could help him along,” Hermione said.

“No, go to dinner, we’ll catch up,” Ron said.

Hermione and Gia left the room; Ron went into the bathroom.

“I was going to ask Gia to suck on my dick,” Harry said from the shower stall, “Wasn’t expecting you to volunteer.”

“She wants to do more than suck it,” Ron said, “She wants these—” Ron reached into the shower, his hand went behind the loose testicles, held onto them, “—use them before she loses interest.”

“You’re interested,” Harry snapped.

“No!” Ron said, retracting his hand, “As your _friend_ , I don’t want them going blue on you, alright?”

“I bumped our reservation out another night, so I’ve got a plan!” Harry said, “Trust me and butt out.”

“Fine,” Ron said, “I was thinking ropes, you know, let Gia have her way with you.”

“Glad you’ve thought this through!” Harry snapped.

“Just watching your back,” Ron said, “I’ll leave you to play with yourself.”

“I suggest taking your broom out of your arse!” Harry retorted.

Ron left the bathroom.


	5. Virgins

Gia laid in the bathtub Tuesday morning, the ninth of July. Harry’s knees were on the edges of the tub, straddling her; his hands were working the apple shampoo into her hair. Her eyes watched the slow drips from his soft penis, her right hand behind the testicles, holding them. Hermione was sitting on the toilet, while Ron was leaning back against the sink.

“You changed our departure date?” Hermione said, “You could’ve said—”

“It’s only the ninth,” Harry said, “How far is it to Romania? We can afford to go slower. More importantly, because it’s the ninth, that means it’s Gia’s birthday. Happy Birthday.”

“Always good to respect the one holding your balls,” Ron said, in a matter–of–fact tone.

“Just talk to us Harry,” Hermione said, “That’s enough reason to not spend the day on the train.”

“Sorry, didn’t think of that,” Harry said.

“We can tell how you’re thinking,” Hermione said as Harry’s dick sprung up, stiff, as he was massaging, washing, Gia’s tits.

“While you figure out what to do with that,” Ron said, “We’ll be getting breakfast. Hermione.”

“I’ll be a moment,” Hermione said.

Ron left the bathroom.

* * *

Crowds had already formed, vendors were already there hawking souvenirs, as the teenagers approached the Eiffel Tower. Harry walked carefully as Gia’s hand was holding his hard erection.

“I guess I can do this again,” Hermione said, “It’s nice to look around with a view.”

“My Firebolt can do that,” Ron said.

“And be seen!” Hermione protested.

“I’ve never gone up before,” Gia said, relaxing her grip on the erection, instead moved to tickling Harry’s testicles.

Slowly, the line snaked underneath the base, until they paid for their tickets, and got onto the elevator on one of the legs to the tower. Ron moved his head, watched the glass doors slide shut, watched the machinery move the elevator up the leg of the tower at a sideway slant.

“Amazing,” Ron said.

“Only nine tons of steel,” the operator said.

“Nine tons?” Gia asked.

“Yes,” the operator said as the elevator pulled up to the second level.

Gia maintained her grip on Harry’s genitals, feeling a bit into his pubic hair with her pinking, as they got out on the second level. They fought the crowd and got into line for the center elevators to the top.

Gia jostled Harry’s balls, her finger teased his foreskin.

“Are you going to be playing with him all day?” Hermione asked.

“Yes,” Gia said.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“She wanted to and it’s her birthday,” Harry said, “No sticky messes though.”

“Heaven forbid,” Hermione snidely said.

“Care to do that for me?” Ron said, “Sticky mess is fine.”

“No!” Hermione snapped.

“It’ll help sort him out,” Gia whispered to Hermione.

“If he can’t take that hint—” Hermione said, “I’ve got a trick or two.”

“No tricks,” Ron said.

Hermione coughed at the smoke from the nearby smokers when they walked into the elevator. In a couple of moments, they were at the top.

“Cool!” Ron said, as they climbed up to the top deck. Harry noted the face of Ron, the joy on his face.

“Look at the pollution,” Hermione said, drearily, “Hard to see anything.”

“It’s still nice,” Gia said, “Though I’ve got the best grip on things.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Hermione said.

They spent an hour strolling around the platform, including enjoying themselves with the use of one of the pay telescopes. Eventually Harry came to a halt, his eyes aimed to the ceiling of the top deck, to trapdoor and its ladder.

“Nice ladder,” Harry said loudly, “Can we go up?”

“No,” a nearby security guard said, “You need safety equipment up there so that’s why the trapdoor has an alarm and is well locked. Nobody can go up there.”

After a bit more time, they returned to the central elevators, went down to the second level before making their way to the slanted elevators in the corner, descending to the bottom of the tower.

“Whoa!” Harry said, “That was close.”

Gia idled the hand for a moment; it returned to motion, this time, focusing on combing Harry’s yellow pubic hair.

“I think we get the point!” Hermione said.

“It’s very relaxing,” Gia said, “You ought to try it.”

“Yeah, can you?” Ron asked Hermione.

“No!” Hermione snapped.

“Your loss,” Ron said.

“He needs relaxing,” Harry said to Gia, “Mind?”

“Another day, perhaps,” Gia said.

“Gia!” Hermione snapped.

“Just because you don’t want to play with your toys—” Gia started.

“My dick’s not a toy,” Ron said.

“Yes it is,” Gia said, “Though, think I’ve got the right one today.”

“Just a moment,” Harry said.

Harry and Gia paused, Gia held the penis as Harry peed. Hermione rolled her eyes.

* * *

It was the middle of the afternoon when they arrived at the theater. Hermione bought the tickets from the office; and they walked up the black steps into the quaint theater.

“Do you know what the show is?” Hermione asked as they crossed the lobby.

“No,” Harry said, “That waitress recommended it, seemed a good idea to take it given that we don’t understand French.”

They entered the house through the center double doors; it was small, a few seats deep crammed as close to the stage as possible.

“Which means,” Gia said, “We’re probably in for a surprise.”

Gia gently tugged on Harry’s hard cock, guided him down the right aisle, moved into the center seats of the front row. Harry leaned his seat backward, legs were spread. Gia’s hand stayed curled around the hard erection jutting upward and leaned into Harry, their tongues tap danced as the curtain began to rise.

A play, with naked actors and actresses were on the stage. Girls, older teenagers, paraded around, singing in French, and making no secret of the vulva between their legs.

“It’s a sex show disguised as a romantic drama!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Enjoy it,” Gia said, her eyes were more on Harry than the show.

Ron picked up on her and Harry’s vibes, he leaned over, began to give Hermione an oral examination.

“They’re hotter than the play,” a teenage boy in the row behind whispered to a girl next to him, “They have a nice idea, want to try?”

The girl shoved him away, got up, and stormed out of the theater.

An older male, seated next to the boy, whispered, “Don’t push so hard, they’re easy to lose.”

“Notice you’re having luck Uncle,” the boy said.

“You know I’m gay,” said the Uncle.

“Yeah, cause you couldn’t catch a girl,” the boy teased.

“Let’s enjoy the show,” the Uncle said, “shall we?” The boy went quiet.

Harry paid no attention to the drama behind them; not caring that the Uncle was watching Gia tease Harry’s hard cock just in front of him.

Distracted as they were, Harry and Ron still glanced up at the stage.

“Harry,” Ron said, “Catch that? Butler just poisoned that drink.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “Wonder who’ll drink it.”

The teenage boy behind them said, “Will you keep quiet?”

Harry and Ron kept fairly quiet, though the kissing enhanced the show for those around, before it came to an end. One by one, the actresses came by, blew across Harry’s hard cock before they did their formal bow.

“It’s over?” Ron said, “Encore.”

They left the theater. The teenage boy, who was behind them, caught up with the Uncle in tow.

“You guys must really like your chicks,” said the boy.

“Yes,” Ron asked, “Where are you from?”

“California,” the boy said, “I’m Ben, this is my Uncle Trevor.”

“I’m Harry,” Harry said, “this is Ron,” — pointing — “Hermione, and Gia.”

“We’re from England,” said Ron.

Ben’s girl from the theater came up to Ben. “This is Sara,” Ben asked, “Here with your parents?”

“No,” Hermione said, “Just us.”

“Must be fun,” Trevor said, “Here’s a good restaurant right ahead. Join us for dinner?”

Harry and Ron exchanged looks. “Sure,” said Harry.

They all entered the restaurant.

* * *

It was late into the evening when they left the restaurant after dinner. Gia’s hand was still on Harry’s genitals.

“I’ll meet you back at the hotel,” Harry said.

“What’s going on?” Gia asked.

“Nothing, just meet you there,” Harry said, “In the room, alright?”

“You sure?” Ron said.

“Never been more sure in my life,” Harry said, “In just a few, I’ll be along momentarily.”

Gia had to let go of Harry’s hard cock as Harry stayed back, waited for them to get out of view.

“What’s he up to?” Hermione asked.

“Dunno,” Ron said.

“I trust him,” Gia said, fiddling with the ring on her finger, the ring Harry had given her months earlier.

They returned to their hotel room, Harry was already there, Firebolt in hand, and grin on his face; the French doors to the balcony were already open.

“Harry?” Ron asked.

“In three…two…one…” Harry said.

Darkness came over them, the lights in the room went out. Through the open window, they could see that every light outside was flickering out.

“What did you do?” Hermione asked.

“Did you take your broom out Ron, like I warned you?” Harry asked.

“It’s under the bed,” Ron said, “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Get it,” Harry said, “No power, no lights, no alarms, lets see Paris at night, from the air. Gia, hold on.”

Harry mounted his Firebolt; Gia got on behind him, held on.

“Hermione, Ron, come,” Harry said.

“Flying?” Hermione sputtered.

“Come on,” Ron said, “Lights aren’t going to stay out forever.”

“We’ve got an hour, tops,” Harry said, “Hurry.”

“This is absolutely immature and ridiculous,” Hermione said, “Flying starkers in Paris, what will you say when we’re caught?”

“With SEP1?“ Ron said, “Nobody’ll care, come on!”

Hermione shook a bit as she mounted Ron’s Firebolt, both she and Ron were naked. She grabbed tightly around the waist; they joined Harry at the threshold of the opening. A quick cast of the SEP, and they flew out. Harry took the lead, across the Seine, and up the Eiffel Tower, landing on the warm roof above the top observation deck of an seemingly empty tower. Harry sat, cross–legged, setting the Firebolt to the side.

“What—” Hermione started, before Harry opened a small box nearby.

Instantly, a candle on the small cupcake lit, he handed it to Gia.

“Happy sixteenth birthday,” Harry said to Gia, “May we have many more.”

“Thank you,” Gia said, eating it, “Presents?”

“One,” Harry said, “Is there a best time? Not sure, but I had you hold my dick all day to convince me it was time to use it, and what better place than in Paris, here, on your birthday?”

“Got me there,” Gia said, smiling.

“Protection?” Hermione asked.

“Magic condoms, from Harry’s book,” Ron asked.

“One he’s never let me read?” Hermione asked.

“Perfect protection,” Harry said, “Hurry up before the lights come back on.”

Harry had Gia on her back on the small and warm roof, so small that Hermione was next to her.

“Come on, he wants us to do it at the same time,” Ron said, before giving Hermione a kiss.

“Next time, a proper seduction,” Hermione said to Ron.

Harry started by kissing Gia’s nipples, he licked around them; Gia massaged into his thighs as he was leaning over her. His hands worked her stomach. Meanwhile, Ron started by licking and kissing Hermione’s neck, his hands cradled her head, and let his balls rest on her thigh. Ron’s dick stiffened on her, dragging itself as the foreskin retracted, his slit pushed into her stomach.

“Only an hour?” Hermione asked.

“A guess,” Harry said.

“Quit talking and start banging!” Gia said.

A noise came from below.

“Now or never,” Harry said, “Coitus Protego!”

A green shimmering covered Harry’s hard cock, a layer of light surrounded it.

“Coitus Protego!” Ron shouted.

Red light bathed Ron’s erection.

“Waiting?” Gia asked.

“Nope,” Harry said, straddling and laying onto Gia, she guided his glans between her folds, into her vulva. Harry began to flex his hips.

Hermione groaned slightly, but let Ron in, he was following Harry’s example, laying as his cock went in. Ron flexed his hips too. Ron kept this up, drilling in and out. Hermione smiled as Ron collapsed onto her. A moment later, he gathered his strength, pulled out, his off white semen trapped between the magic and his glans, pushing into a small bulb to contain it.

“Yes! Yes!” Gia exclaimed, Harry was still going.

Harry pulled out, his thick semen spread across his dick. “Guess we did it.”

“Guess we did?” snapped Hermione.

“We did,” Ron said as he sat up.

“Really,” said Gia.

“Interesting glow,” said Harry.

“Okay, so it’s a cute charm,” Hermione said.

They spent a few minutes staring and blinking, until they began to hear noises from below. Footsteps, boots stepping underneath the trapdoor, ascending, before the lock was being messed with.

“Shit!” Harry exclaimed, “Hurry!”

Harry grabbed his Firebolt, so did Ron. Gia got on, as did Hermione onto Ron’s. All cast the SEP and flew off the roof. All four plummeted.

Both Harry and Ron felt their brooms to be sluggish, not wanting to respond, but did manage to level off at two hundred feet. They went as fast as they could for the hotel balcony, their altitude dropping as they flew. Harry overtook, got in first. Ron made it to the balcony when he and Hermione went in to free fall as Ron’s magic failed, they landed on the bed.

“That was close,” Hermione said, “and dangerous.”

“And fun,” Gia said, holding Harry’s shoulder, “Never dreamed it would be first on top of the Eiffel Tower.”

The lights came back on.

“Well,” Harry said, “Guess they figured out the squirrels.”

Hermione shut the curtains.

“Sorry,” Gia said, “You two need to clean up before you get into bed.”

All four examined the two dicks hanging there with semen on them. Both Ron and Harry wiped them off before returning to climb into the bed.

“So,” Gia asked, “Why the diminishing power?”

“First, Happy Birthday, again,” Harry said, “Losing magic for a while is the price of that spell, One I have no problems with.”

“That’s the fine print?!” Hermione stammered.

“It worked,” Ron said, “See you in the morning.”

Ron was the first to fall asleep.

“I can’t believe you’d risk—” Hermione said to Harry, “Next time, use a muggle condom, don’t risk my neck with that stunt—”

“It wasn’t a stunt,” Harry said, “Good night.”

* * *

Harry woke first to a breeze blowing across his buttocks Wednesday morning; the window was still wide open, cheap curtains to either side, with the morning sun soaking heat into them. Harry glanced at the Firebolts laying on the floor, remembering what had transpired the previous evening.

“Where to today?” Ron asked, poking his head out of the blanket covering him. He glanced up at Harry, seeing the soft penis hanging from the yellow pubic hair.

“Maybe Lyon or something,” Harry said, standing next to the bed, “Suggestions?”

Gia’s hand reached up, her finger traced along the crease of Harry’s boyish V, dragging down to his penis, his testicles. She tugged, and Harry knelt on the edge of the bed, which left his crotch as Ron’s main view.

“Mind moving?” Ron asked.

Gia, however, her hand caressed Harry’s sack, inspected his dark yellow glans.

“Get a camera!” Hermione snapped, “Public sex—”

“As long as we don’t get caught,” Ron said.

“Figures!” Hermione snapped.

Hermione rolled out of the bed, walked into the bathroom with a grumpy composure; she slammed the door behind her. Ron squeezed out, went over to the door, and tried the knob.

“Locked,” Ron said.

Ron knocked on the door, but the only reply was the sound of running water. Harry, though, pulled out his penknife, went over, and stuck it into the lock. He twisted the knob and opened the door.

“Stay out!” Hermione snapped.

“Just to piss?” Harry asked.

“Alright,” Hermione said, “But not Ron—he can piss out the window.”

Harry closed the door after he entered, it closed with the click of the lock. Harry stood on the edge of the shower, aimed his penis, and began to urinate, pissing into the shower; the odor invaded their nostrils.

“What?!” Hermione stammered, her eyes wide upon Harry, the gold still streaming out of his penis, and she pushed back into the corner, held her hand against her bushy brown carpet.

“You’re being unfair,” Harry said.

“So,” Hermione sneered, “That sex maniac dare you?”

“Ease up,” Harry said, “I’m not going to bite.”

Harry stepped into the shower.

“You’re judging!” Hermione snapped, her eyes watching Harry’s rapidly stiffening cock.

“What did you expect when you sabotaged our alarm clocks back home?” Harry said, as he got wet, “You lied to us so we’d be forced to streak across England, because you wanted to see it, you just didn’t count on us going along with it, and trusting that we can be naked together.”

“Sex is all that’s on your mind!” Hermione said.

“I should be able to trust you with my privates,” Harry said as he began to lather the soap onto himself, “If I can’t, best to go to the shops, get something to wear.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Hermione said.

“Hermione, you’ve got good brains _and_ a good body,” Harry said, “I’m surrounded by beautiful girls and you’re expecting me to keep sex off the mind? They day I can’t sport a stiffy with my friends is the day to worry.”

“Friendship isn’t bought with sex—” Hermione started.

“You misunderstand,” Harry said, “It’s love, for Gia, for you. You’re our friend and always shall be. If we weren’t, well, I’d expect you’d have castrated me by now.”

Hermione giggled as Harry’s hard statue softened fast.

“Interesting argument,” Hermione said.

“You’re bright and beautiful, though it’s your personality that makes you sexy,” Harry said, “Even Ron sees that in you, so it’s got to be true.”

“Flattery,” Hermione said as Harry’s erection returned.

“What kind of friend would I be if I can’t flatter you?” Harry asked.

Hermione returned the grin.

“We appreciate you coming along,” Harry said, “Our friendship isn’t skin deep, it’s much deeper, but your skin’s also very beautiful—”

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

“When you’re done banging my girlfriend—” Ron shouted, “Others do need to use the room!”

“See?!” Hermione snapped.

“Notice me not pressing it onto you?” Harry exclaimed, pointing to his hard dick, “Going naked just means that I can’t hide it … that and we finally used them!”

“It was overrated,” Hermione said as Harry began to rinse.

Harry rinsed the soap off his scrotum before he turned off the water. Quickly, he grabbed two towels and handed one over to her. He moved through the open door, only partly dry when he entered the bedroom, where Ron’s ears tinged green as he glared at Harry’s dripping hard statue.

“What the—?!” Ron started to yell.

“Chill—” Harry started as Ron tackled him to the floor.

Ron threw a right hook and punched with the left. Harry responded with a left to jaw. Ron kneed into Harry’s scrotum, Harry moaned. Ron got in several more punches before Harry responded. They punched and rolled.

“Stop it!” Hermione barked.

Ron threw another punch against Harry’s penis before Hermione and Gia rushed over and grabbed when they had the chance. Hermione grabbed Harry’s while Gia grabbed Ron’s scrotum; they both squeezed onto the testicles. Harry and Ron came to a halt, on their hands and knees, blood on their faces.

“Best use these have had all along,” Hermione said, holding on, “You two ought to be ashamed—acting like hounds in heat, maybe your speeches about you being better starkers are pretense? If you can’t behave—we’ll have to reconsider. I think—I think you’ll have to go a week before you need these again.”

“Agreed,” Gia said, “That might teach them.”

“A week of what—” Ron started as he mopped blood off his face.

“A week until you need that spell again,” Hermione stated.

“That’s—that’s—” Ron started.

“Just,” Harry stated, red dripping from his nose.

“That goes for you too—” Gia said.

“But I—” Harry protested, until Hermione squeezed again, “Alright.”

“Unless you wish to stink as you travel,” Hermione said to Ron, “Shower!”

“Come on,” Gia said, pulling Ron by his balls, to the bathroom, she left the door ajar as the water started up.

“I don’t get Ron,” Harry said to Hermione. “Them together, they’re naked, but I’m cool since I trust Ron, but he’s not trusting me!”

“You are bankrolling the trip,” Hermione said, “Maybe that has something—”

“FUCK!” Harry yelled, “I just want us to have fun, so I don’t give a damn about the money, but I do care about him! If every time we talk, he gets pissed off, it’s not fun.”

Ron came out of the bathroom, acting oblivious. “Oh HI! Don’t mind me, I’m naked.”

“We can see that,” Hermione said.

After a couple of painful pushes of their Firebolts back into their butts; Harry and Ron limped as they left the room. They went down the stairs to the front desk.

“Bill to settle for Room 309,” Harry said to the lady behind the desk while laying down his Gringotts Debit Card and the room key.

Ron opened his mouth, but Harry slammed his hand fast against it to silence Ron.

“Unless _you_ want to settle!” Harry snapped.

The lady behind the desk glanced at the bruises, but did not pursue. Instead, she accepted the card, had Harry sign, before returning the card. Harry pushed the card up his butt hole before they left the hotel.

Harry went to put his arm around Gia after they got onto the sidewalk; however, she slapped him and ducked out of the way before his next attempt.

“A week, remember?” Gia said.

Hermione bought a local paper with a picture of the darkened Eiffel Tower on the front page.

* * *

Later, they boarded a train, sat in an open four seater. Hermione held her local paper as they were riding the train away from Paris, translating for all.

“Let’s see,” Hermione said, “Power out disables alarms … Batteries … Motion detectors … recorded a presence … Why unknown … Guard saw bodies falling … None recovered … Guard … within seconds of nabbing … Investigation is proceeding. I wonder what the weather’s like in Switzerland.” She thumbed the paper and turned pages. Ron snickered.

“I guess we were noticed—” Harry started.

“Next time read the bloody book!” Hermione snapped.

“Worth it,” Harry said, grin on his face as his eyes were focus upon Hermione’s folds before him.

“Hmph!” Hermione snorted.

Harry let his snake slither upward.

“It’s all you two ever think about!” Hermione snapped.

I’m letting it express it’s admiration—” Harry retorted.

“Just remember which girl—” Ron warned.

“Children!” Gia snapped.

“He started it,” Ron said, before blushing as his own erection grew stiff in front of her.

“Ow,” Harry muttered, “Can you like…not punch me in the balls?”

“Then keep them off Hermione!” Ron seethed.

“Enough!” Hermione said, “I’ve had it with you…both! Now, before this gets worse, I want you to apologize.”

Ron shook his head.

“Then suck Harry’s dick,” Hermione said.

“What?” Ron asked.

“He doesn’t have to—” Harry started.

“And you suck his,” Hermione said.

“What are you—” Gia started to asked.

“According to them, it’s the most important bit of their anatomy,” Hermione said, “So, suck and service, full service, and apologize after you’ve both…discharged, complaining about the aftertaste.”

“Gia!” Harry protested.

“Best get started,” Gia said, “It’s to be my in–train entertainment.”

“Take a few minutes to check out the damage you inflicted,” Hermione said, “Then suck.”

“Unless you never want sex again,” Gia said, “Do we have to confiscate your bollocks?”

“No,” Harry said.

“Best to take some time here, learn it properly,” Hermione said, “It’ll be the only sex you’ll have for a while.”

“We get the idea,” Harry snapped.

“Lets get this over with,” Ron said.

Ron got onto the seat cushion, on his hands and knees, examined Harry’s genitals. Ron’s fingers held Harry’s bruised scrotum.

“Ow, it still hurts,” Harry said.

“Sorry,” Ron muttered.

“Get sucking, and no accidents,” Hermione said.

Ron retracted Harry’s foreskin, examined the slit from close by, before he brought his mouth over it.

“Tongue, don’t forget the tongue,” Gia said, “You’re trying to take out his bruises.”

Ron could see it, close by, the bruising on the base of Harry’s hard cock, the rest was in Ron’s mouth. Ron brought his tongue to the skin, felt the ridge, the shoulder of the glans, the slit, before he began to lick.

“Oh,” Harry said, “I’m feeling it.”

“Good,” Hermione said, “More Ron.”

Ron partially slobbered, added his saliva to the erection, getting Harry’s glans nice and slick.

“Gotta be the best one he’s ever received,” Gia said, her fingers fingering into her vulva.

“It’s just a…” Harry started, his face blushing.

“Don’t forget to rub his testicles,” Hermione said.

Ron cradled the scrotum with a free hand, he massaged through the bruised skin.

“Stop…stop!” Harry snapped.

Ron, though, sucked again, the tongue caressed the glans, moved it around, and focused on the slit. A quick tremor, a surge of heat, the saltiness, and Ron tasted the flow of Harry’s semen across the tongue.

“Show it!” Hermione snapped.

Ron pulled off, Harry’s tip was still oozing, but Ron showed Hermione his tongue, covered with the white.

“Gross,” Harry said.

“Bleah,” Ron said.

“No spitting, no swallowing,” Hermione said, “Let it linger, and, it’s Harry’s turn.”

“I—” Harry started.

“Do it,” Gia said.

Ron got up, let Harry push him back on the train seat. Harry knelt, examined Ron’s soft penis.

“Eyes on the girls,” Harry said to Ron.

Ron studied Hermione, she fiddled with her clitoris, and Ron stiffened. Harry watched it harden, before grabbing it. Harry licked the slit before the warm cavern enveloped the shaft. A tongue explored, pushing into the band of foreskin, around the shaft, along the ridge, and touched the slit; the fingers pushed into his scrotum, tried to massage away the soreness from their punches.

“We need to get some drinks,” Gia said, “We trust you can do this right to the end, no cheating, understood?”

Gia and Hermione stood, left the carriage. This left Ron watching Harry suck on his cock; Harry paused.

“I am sorry,” Harry said.

Harry latched his mouth back onto Ron’s hard shaft, kept at it with the fingers teasing into the testicles.

Ron, of course, felt awkward, he wasn’t expecting this, for Harry to be giving him a blowjob, but Harry wasn’t trying to cut the service short. Instead, Harry expanded his fingers, worked into Ron’s pubic hair too, massaging to the base of the shaft. Perhaps Harry was subconsciously letting magic into it, which would be tough as their magic had left them, but Ron felt the tension easing in him. Harry’s hands changed to work Ron’s inner thighs, massaging, before they returned to the testicles. Slowly, Ron relaxed enough for the pressure to build up; Harry’s tongue moved to the slit, touched the fulcrum, when Ron felt the surge. Ron felt the sudden release, the drop in pressure, as he ejaculated into the mouth of Harry Potter. Harry waited for a moment or two, before standing up; he sat next to Ron.

“Can we talk?” Harry asked.

“Guess so,” Ron said.

“Hermione’s your girlfriend,” Harry said, “We’re showing ‘em our dicks—it tastes awful.”

“I know,” Ron said, “Why’d you think I took a while?”

“Suppose they get this when they blow us,” Harry said, “Maybe we ought to make it more open.”

“More open?” Ron said, “We’re naked, can’t get more open than that.”

“Tell you what, we share,” Harry said, “Would that help?”

“What do you mean by _share_?” Ron asked.

“Simple, we stop worrying about it,” Harry said, “If you and Gia want to fuck, then fuck; if me and Hermione want to, we’ll bang. It’s sharing a friend, that’s all, and we’ll cheer when it happens, alright?”

“I’ve got—” Ron started.

“You’ve got everything,” Harry said, “It’s now a _we_ , alright? You’re along for the ride too.”

“I guess,” Ron said.

“Hey, you’re entitled, alright?” Harry said, “Do you think Malfoy could get a girl to really love him? I doubt it. You…I loved you enough that I could give you that blowjob, and yours…it was good.”

“It was?” Ron asked.

“Strange, wasn’t expecting that when I woke up,” Harry said, “Still, good, no regrets on it, so, if you need to do it again…”

“Doubt that’d happen,” Ron said, “You did alright too.”

Harry reached over, cradled Ron’s soft penis.

“Perhaps it’s a good thing,” Harry said, “To stop worrying about it, if it slips in, it goes in.”

“Explain this to them,” Ron said.

“And to cheer you up, check Hermione’s legs,” Harry said, “She’s tanning up nicely without any lines.”

“Still doing it,” Ron said.

“We’re naked and they’re _both_ worthy of our attention,” Harry said, “Understood?”

Harry moved his hand upward, they shook hands.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Ron said, “I’ll have Gia pregnant by the end of the week.”

“Don’t do that!” Harry snapped.

Ron started to laugh, Harry joined in.

“Did you two make up?” Gia asked, returning with a drink in her hand. Hermione followed.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“Consider me,” Gia said, “We’re naked and we’re exposed enough as it is. Fighting doesn’t help.”

“I’ll be back,” Ron said as he stood.

Ron walked along the compartment, went through the door, to the next car, the dining car. He wondered what took the Hermione so long. Instead, he kept walking, into the next carriage, which actually had other passengers, a bunch. Ron walked, where nearly every passenger watched his penis swing, until he came across a pair of teenage girls, slightly younger, giggling at the sight of his penis. Ron stopped before he saw their hands, clearly up their shorts, pleasuring themselves. Ron ignored the lady conductor who stopped as Ron was blocking the pathway; the conductor who also watched as Ron showed his penis to the girls. Ron twisted it slightly, curled it, before holding it sideways in front of one of the girls; he began to pee. Both of the girls giggled, watched, as Ron had multiple surges, each one getting onto their shirts. Ron held the tip up to the nearest girl’s nose, she moaned slightly, and relaxed. Ron turned, kept on walking the carriage. Ron slipped into a private compartment, closed the door, before he reached into his arse to pull out his journal.

10 July, 1996

That does it—Dumbledore is interfering, though I don’t know how. But, do I want to put a stop to it? Not really.

I’m starting to see the rationale, even for Hermione’s unreasonable demands. It’s only a matter of time until You–Know–Who bothers us again, and it’s best to be comfortable.

Guess I shouldn’t complain about Harry’s blowjob either — it was good, he could teach Hermione a thing or two. Though I won’t tell Ginny that I blew Harry, that’d make her jealous, maybe even mad.

* * *

1 SEP, or Somebody Else’s Problem , is a spell that tricks the observer into not bothering to remember what they were seeing. This idea is adapted from Douglas Adam’s work, Life, The Universe, and Everything  



	6. Alps

After Lyon, Geneva, and Bern, the four teenagers left the main Zurich station Saturday, the thirteenth, and walked into a park near Limmat river. Harry sat on the grass, let the blades work their way up his butt, his loose scrotum rested in the green, beneath the nearly black pubic hair; he studied the road map of Switzerland. Ron swatted at a bee buzzing past, he missed.

“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked,

“Think we’re moving too fast,” Harry said, “At this rate, we’ll spend a month at Charlie’s. While I know Ron loves his brothers, I doubt we want to force him to spend a month with one.”

“Thank you for that consideration,” Ron said, sarcastically.

“Suppose you want me to suck on that again,” Harry said, his eyes leveled right at the soft penis hanging below the red pubic hair; the dyes had already left them.

Gia snickered.

“No, no,” Ron said, “Not required.”

“So your plan is—” Hermione asked, not knowing if she wanted to hear the answer.

“Go slower,” Harry said, “Hike the Alps.”

“Hiking the Alps?” Hermione asked, “Any clue to how long that takes?”

Harry ruffled the map a bit.

“I’m guessing a week to Austria,” Harry said, “Doesn’t seem too demanding, though I suppose we could use the Firebolts if we fall short.”

“We’re _**NAKED**_!” Hermione said.

“So we get a thing or two,” Harry said, “It’s not a big deal—and don’t start that Ron!”

“I’m not,” Ron said.

“You’re shoving it up your arse,” Hermione said.

“Why?” Harry said, standing, “Sure, it’s a bit of a drag but they’ve got backpacks—”

“Which we mailed—” Hermione started.

“And it’s been great!” Harry said, “But I’m not shoving a sleeping bag up my butt!”

“You’re a wizard, just make it out of thin air,” Gia said.

“We’re trying to keep a low profile,” Hermione said, “No magic.”

“Low profile?” Gia said, “We’re NAKED! I don’t call that a low profile.”

“I think I saw a store this way,” Harry said, pointing.

Harry’s dick flopped as it liked to do as he walked, the jet black pubic hair attracting the eyes of passerbys, as they made it along the roads of the shops, coming to a large outdoor and sporting goods retailer with a parking lot full of cars as numerous people shuffled in and out. Harry led the way, entered the store. Inside, Gia and Hermione went off, while Ron followed Harry.

Ron and Harry weaved through the crowd, bumping into people as they went to reach the maps section. Harry studied the reference card before he perused the selection of topographical maps.

“What are we looking for?” Ron asked.

“A good map,” Harry said, “We need a good trail that goes somewhere toward Romania.”

Ron looked over Harry’s bare shoulder as Harry went through the various maps. Harry laid the fith one onto the table, spread it out.

“That one looks good,” Ron said, pointing out a trail, his red armpit hair showing.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “Runs between the timberline and the ridge–line, bit remote which is what I’d like.” Harry pointed to a stretch of the trail. “Twenty five miles with no junctions, rest at five or ten mile spacings, even hugs a ridge, might be a good view or two.”

“No tell–tale signs,” Ron said.

“Huh?” Harry uttered.

“Well,” Ron said, “Certain things show when somebody tries to hide things. With this trail, it’s possible.”

Harry said, “We’ll risk it then.”

Hermione approached, her bushy carpet was as fluffy and brown as usual.

“Gia’s waiting by the cash registers,” Hermione said.

“Thank you,” Ron said to Hermione, ducking to give her a kiss.

Hermione took a step back, watched as Ron crashed into the shelf. Harry joined in her laughter, earning a glare from Ron.

“Lets move,” Harry said as he moved.

Harry’s dick began to swell as they came to the cash registers, his eyes did as they usually did, traced her smooth shaved vagina.

“I assumed double wide sleeping bags,” Gia said.

“That’ll do,” Harry said.

Harry reached into his butt, pulled out his wallet, and stood in line.

“Need a couple of things from that other store across the road,” Hermione said.

“Here,” Gia said, pushhing the cart toward Harry, “See you out front.”

Hermione and Gia left.

“You sure about this?” Ron asked.

“Yeah, I am,” Harry said, “Not risking going back early and having to stay with the Dursleys. It’s been a nice trip so far.”

“Nice seeing their pussies moving about,” Ron said.

“Yep,” Harry said, “Nobody else seems to give a damn about us.”

“Likely you,” Ron said, “Not complaining, though I wonder how many dreams we’re getting into.”

Harry snorted.

“I mean it, how many are liking the real me?” Ron began to point as they made it the checkout. “How’s my penis?”

The young lady of a cashier smiled, studied the two soft todgers hanging there; including the bit of the glans still showing on Ron’s.

“You had to point that out,” Harry said.

“We’ll be in her dreams tonight,” Ron said.

Harry shook his head as the lady punched up the total. Harry handed over his debit card, used it. Ron, meanwhile, pulled his scrotum a bit forward, lifted his penis, as the lady glanced at this.

“Come on,” Harry said.

Harry grabbed the cart, pushed it out of the store.

“We’re naked, better to get second opinions,” Ron said.

“Flirting with every lady—” Harry started.

“Hermione’s fault for cutting us off,” Ron said, “What’s a bloke to do?”

“Do about what?” Hermione asked, stepping up to them.

“I need sex,” Ron said.

“You know whose fault that is,” Hermione said.

“Can you bewitch the backpack?” Harry asked.

“I thought you grabbed two,” Hermione asked Gia.

“One,” Gia said.

“Borrow my wand,” Ron said, shaking his dick as it stiffened.

“No to you,” Hermione said to Ron, before turning to Harry, “Keep him ten paces away.”

Harry grabbed Ron, they took ten paces, turned.

“So what if we fought?” Ron said, “We’ve made up, we got the point, and we’re good now.”

“She can count,” Harry said.

Hermione snorted.

“She’s listening,” Ron said.

“Her ears work, that’s good,” Harry said, “I’d be worried if they didn’t.”

“You’re not taking this seriously,” Ron said.

“I am,” Harry said, “It’s just, you’re coming across as being desparate.”

“But I am,” Ron said before raising his voice, “Alright, not interested!”

Hermione chuckled.

Harry lowered his voice, whispered. “You know her, she’s sticking to the week, but they want to do it too. So, we’re going to be hiking, prepare to be jumped, because we’re the only entertainment for them.”

“I like your thinking,” Ron whispered.

“Uh–oh, they’re scheming,” Gia said.

“When I said a week, I meant it!” Hermione said loudly to them.

“We heard!” Harry retorted.

“She’s frustrated too,” Ron whispered, “It’s in her voice.”

“Play it cool,” Harry whispered.

“Done,” Hermione announced.

Hermione shoved her wand up her butt as Harry and Ron came back. Gia already stuffing the small bookbag sized backpack, a tent going in first.

“Those are big sleeping bags,” Ron said, staring at the pair of bags, “You miscounted.”

“Fit two each,” Harry said.

“Oh—oh!” Ron said.

They returned to the station, studied the route map for a moment, took a train a few miles to another station, hopped off, and got onto a bus. Ron stopped in front of another teenage girl, about their age, who smiled; she was still smiles as Ron teased his todger, let the erection grow; he let her gawk at his genitals during the ride, turning and twisting to give her a better view of the hard cock.

“Have you considered we might want to see that?” Hermione asked.

“You’re still interested?” Ron asked.

“Punishment hurts us as much as it hurts you,” Hermione said.

“Yeah, but they like seeing this too,” Ron said, “Not going to disappoint. Now, watch this.”

Ron gave the girl a side profile, he held the dick, and she watched his first bit of force, as the gold stream started up. Ron peed onto the walking carpet of the bus floor, the golden arch ending in a new puddle soaking into the short fibers. The girl rung for the next stop, stood, and waited by the door.

“Not everybody’s interested,” Hermione said.

“Are you?” Ron asked.

“Not saying,” Hermione said.

They rode the bus to a small village, the end of the line, and got off; they walked.

“Ron’s not letting up,” Hermione muttered, glancing at the hard shaft jutting out.

“He’d still be hard if we were dressed,” Harry said, “You just wouldn’t know it. At least being starkers, it ain’t painful when we’ve got beautiful girls with—”

“Excuse of the—” Hermione said.

“We’re guys!” Harry quipped.

“Can we stop the bickering?” Gia said, “I think it’s gorgeous every time they milk.”

Gia grabbed Harry’s soft dangling flesh, felt it firm up in her hand.

“Of—” Hermione started.

“Can we stop that?” Gia said, “Plenty of pubic hair tht we ought to be mature enough to appreciate our friends. If I had wanted a bunch of fighting, I would have stayed at home.”

“Um…” Harry muttered, his erection firmly in her grip, “What she said.”

An old man tending his garden smiled as he saw Harry sporting his erection firm in the presence of the naked girls.

“I figured—” Hermione started.

“I mean it,” Gia said, “Your friends had enough confidence in you to be willing to parade around showing their goods off—it shouldn’t be misplaced, at least based upon all of the tales I’ve heard about your various exploits. So, please accept that we’re naked and enjoy their beauty.”

“I’ve got beauty?” Ron said, “…Thanks.”

“And do understand that the penis has a mind of its own,” Gia continued, “Erections highlight that they do find us attractive—it’s a compliment as they’re showing it off to everybody they come along! Sex is on their minds, that’s just the way boys are programmed, but they are noble to dare to go about starkers, and I trust them not to force it, though they’ll certainly advertise. And it’s nice to give into that.”

Harry snorted as Gia fondled his scrotum. They had made it just onto the trail. Gia, though, pulled Harry closer. Several of the houses had people outside, including the old gardener, that couldn’t help but watch; for they were close to the trail–head, in the middle of the trail, and no shrubs were obscuring them. He pulled her in front of him, he rubbed her breasts as his hands reached from behind, and he kissed on her neck.

“Hmm…” Gia said.

“Remember we grounded them,” Hermione said.

“Later,” Gia said, “Oh…” Gia grabbed a tube from the backpack, handed it over, “So you two don’t get those things sunburnt.”

“What’s that?” Ron asked.

“Sunscreen,” Harry said.

“Hermione, can you rub me?” Ron asked.

“Rub yourself or have Harry do it,” Hermione said, “I’m holding you to the week!”

Harry flipped the cap, squeezed some into his hand.

“I didn’t ask you—” Ron started.

“I have to do myself too,” Harry said.

“Don’t forget your butts,” Hermione said.

“I’ll do those,” Gia said, stepping behind Harry. She rubbed deep as she applied it to Harry’s butt, including into his crack, before she moved onto Ron’s.

“We said—” Hermione started.

“Grow up!” Gia said, “Make your maturity reflect your bodies, it’ll do you all a lot of good.”

“No fun?” Ron stammered.

“You’ve got a nice bush of pubic hair!” Gia snapped.

“Sorry,” Ron said.

“I’m sticking to the week,” Gia said, “But I’ll definitely tease.”

They all glanced at Ron’s hard cock playing sundial to the long and loose scrotum dangling beneath, as Ron’s hand worked the lotion onto them.

“Let’s get moving,” Harry said.

Harry and Ron took the lead. Gia waited until she was shoulder ot shoulder with Hermione, who was wearing the backpack.

“I chose to go starkers,” Gia said to her, “That was my choice—as it was yours. It means nothing is hidden, it means they will look and salivate—as do we. I do not regret my decision to go starkers as I trust that they are mature, or nearly there.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve been a prick,” Hermione said.

“At least we can see where their minds are,” Gia said.

“True,” Hermione replied.

“And no lines—it does feel better,” Gia observed.

“Nothing hidden…” Hermione muttered.

“Is… is that what’s worrying you?”

“What?” Hermione asked.

“This!” Gia grabbed her own breast and Hermione’s, “It’s…it’s obvious—”

Hermione blushed, the size comparison showed her own to be a fair smaller.

“Don’t be so shallow—” Gia said, “Both of them—” she gestured at the boys “—seem to not be making a big issue out of it—both have tossed to them, so they’ve got the official seal of semen approval.”

“So often…” Hermione said, “At school—at first I said was just a late bloomer—”

“And they saw you for a friend before your knickers filled out,” Gia said, “You’re endowed well enough for them—that’s what counts.”

They paused as Ron turned a bit to the side. With his bush of red pubic hair billowing out, the scrotum underneath, he gripped his cock in his hand, let the stream come forth as he began to urinate. Hermione’s left hand massaged her clitoris.

“See?” Gia said, “And you’ll feel the same with Harry.”

“Ron’s my boyfriend!” Hermione snapped.

“Do you not understand Harry?” Gia said, “He too finds you attractive—if it weren’t for Ron… not certain, but I think Harry would’ve gone for you—”

“Harry doesn’t like you?” Hermione asked.

“He loves me, but he also understands Ron’s…” Gia said, “It’s complicated. I think we’re not two couples, but a foursome—”

“Swingers—” Hermione said.

“Looks like sex isn’t the sole preoccupation of the boys,” Gia said, “They value the friendship too dearly to let their gorgeous penises stray.”

“They are gorgeous,” Hermione said.

Even though they only saw the backs of the boys, both of the girls deduced the erections from the shadows beneath the sun and the loose scrotums hanging beneath their butts between their flexing legs.

“And they’re happy,” Hermione said.

“See?” Gia said, “An advantage of being starkers.”

“Yep,” Hermione said.

Both girls paused, again, watched as Harry and Ron turned to look at something for a moment, hard erections jutting out of their groins and their testicles freely showing beneath.

“Just relax and it’ll work out,” Gia said, “Don’t know how, just that it will—I know that’s difficult for you.”

Both boys turned to focus upon the girls, their foreskins unsheathed as much as they naturally could in a dry, orgasmic twitch. Harry waited until they got close, he ran and jumped, securing his groin in front of Gia’s head as he sat on her shoulders, his cock an inch from her mouth. She blew across his glans.

“Is it straight?” Harry asked.

“What?” Gia said, unable to focus on her walk with his pubic hair in her vision.

“We—I was wondering,” Harry said.

She studied as he lifted his rear, her eyes first moved along the topside before going underneath his shaft.

“It works,” Gia said.

“I told you so,” Ron said.

“You—” Hermione started.

“And—” Harry asked.

Gia sniffed.

“And you need to clean it once in a while,” Gia said.

Harry pushed and got off of her. He whimpered as his shaft softened back into a snake.

“You let him—” Hermione said.

“Stop fussing,” Gia said, “He’ll tire of it at some point.”

“That’ll be a while,” Hermione said.

“In the meanwhile…” Gia stopped to watch Harry.

For Harry had paused, swung to the side, and gave them an eyeful as he started to urinate, while Ron kept on going. Both of the girls watched, not quite full frontal, but close, so they could see him gripping his penis, underneath the pubic, lifted off his scrotum, as his yellow stream coursed out of the tip, exposed as the foreskin was already retracted. As it slowed to a trickle, he looked at the wet puddle, then at the girls, with a look of innocence, but he grinned.

“Sorry,” Harry muttered as he returned to walking.

Harry ran to catch back up with Ron.

“He’s not—” Hermione started.

“It means he’s not perfectly comfortable with his exposure,” Gia said, “At least not always, that gives him some charm.”

“Thanks,” Hermione said.

“Witch or not, we’re still girls,” Gia said, “Suppose there’s some magic to—”

“Yes, love potions being the first,” Hermione said, “Plenty of beauty charms, but I’ve not stooped to using them.”

“Something Ron’s said about Harry,” Gia said, “He wouldn’t know if it’s true love.”

“It’s claimed that love potions don’t create love, simply encourage what’s already there,” Hermione said, “But you wouldn’t know, not utterly certain.”

“Which Harry needs to know, that it’s genuine,” Gia said, “Perhaps Harry’s idea here has merit.”

“Which idea?” Hermione said, “The trip?”

“This hike,” Gia said, “No distractions, I think he wants us to be absolutely comfortable.”

“You’ve given it a lot of thought,” Hermione replied.

“I have to,” Gia said, “I met a wizard who’s lightning rod to danger, so I have to understand him, I have to trust him that he’ll keep me safe.”

“That’s what worries him,” Hermione said.

“I know as he made sex conditional on it,” Gia said, “Like sex, or a lack thereof, would make a difference, except between us.”

“You’re going to stick to the week?” Hermione asked.

“Yep,” Gia said, “If he can’t stick it out, then we’d have things to discuss.”

They kept on hiking.

* * *

Twilight came upon them when they arrived at the small stone shelter along the trail. Hermione handed out jerky before pulling out the sleeping bags.

“Anything soft for us to sleep on?” Ron asked.

“We?” Hermione said, “We’re not sleeping together.”

“These fit two,” Harry said, “If that bothered you, why didn’t we go for four regular ones?”

“Bit smaller than a hotel bed,” Hermione said, “However, just so we don’t have any accidents, until we say otherwise, I’m not sharing a bag with either of you.”

“So, in order to sleep, I have to share with Harry?” Ron asked.

“What a wonderful idea,” Hermione said, “Thank you for volunteering.”

“I didn’t mean—” Ron said.

“Let’s not argue,” Harry said.

“But I wanted to toss off to you,” Ron said to Hermione.

“Outside,” Hermione said.

“Hermione!” Harry protested.

“Outside, now!” Hermione said, “We’ve got…girl things to do.”

Hermione handed Harry the sleeping bag, while she handed Ron a pair of pillows and an air matteress.

“As she said,” Gia said.

“Fine,” Ron said.

Ron and Harry went out of the shelter, a hundred yards, to a bit of a grass spot.

“We’ve shared the bed before without any accidents!” Ron said.

“You really want to argue with Hermione?” Harry said, “You know her, better to let it slide, worry about it later.”

“Yeah,” Ron said, “So how do we use this?”

Harry dropped the sleeping bag, grabbed the air matteress, opened the valve, and blew it in.

“No inflating charm?” Ron asked.

“Don’t know it,” Harry said, “Besides, we need to avoid magic, not be noticed.”

“Might’ve warned her before forcing us to go starkers,” Ron said, “I can pick them out of a crowd because of it.”

“I want sex too,” Harry said, “They’re holding out, together.”

“What if they don’t let us back in?” Ron asked, rolling the sleeping bag down out over the air matteress.

“Then a talk,” Harry said, “Gia wants me back in … if Hermione doesn’t, well, no hard feelings if you need to bang Gia, alright?”

“Thanks,” Ron said, “My dick, it wants to go off.” His erection was still hard.

“Maybe that’s what she was afraid of,” Harry said, “Lets get some sleep.”

“She won’t even let me toss off,” Ron said as they sat on the sleeping bag.

“I know,” Harry said.

“I need relief,” Ron said.

“Shh!” Harry said quietly.

“Then she won’t know—” Ron said.

“Shh!” Harry said, grabbing Ron’s scrotum.

“What’s that for?” Ron asked.

“You’ve been good lately,” Harry said, “Not even complaining back at the store.”

“I’m trying,” Ron said, defensively.

“I know,” Harry replied, “I’m doing this for friendship, because you need it, so pretend I’m Hermione.”

Ron felt the fingers on his scrotum while the tongue touched his slit.

“Harry?” Ron asked.

“Shh!” Harry retorted.

Ron’s eyes strained and adjusted, could see Harry now bent down, the mouth going over Ron’s stiff cock. Harry’s hands moved, massaged, teased Ron’s testicles, while the tongue began to circulate. Ron felt himself relaxing, as Harry’s touch was soothing, the tongue stimulated. A circle, a lick, Harry’s tongue explored Ron’s hard erection, working a bit onto the slit, the glans, back to the slit as Ron felt the pressure build and release. This time, Ron had a tinge of surprise, the shame he felt before, the embarrassment, wasn’t there, instead, he simply wanted Harry to be content taking away the evidence, until Ron had little left. Harry crawled back, into the double wide sleeping bag, and drew the top over them.

“Wasn’t expecting it,” Ron whispered.

“You are simply worth it,” Harry said.

“So I gotta blow you now?” Ron whispered.

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry replied, quietly.

“What’s gotten into you?” Ron asked.

“Do you really want to know?” Harry asked, sticking out his tongue, they could both see the off–white semen lingering on it.

“You didn’t spit it out,” Ron said.

“So?” Harry said, “Their pranks backfire, understood? Us streaking…we made it permanent. Having us suck—”

“That’s not one I was eager to continue,” Ron said.

“We weren’t eager to go naked either,” Harry said, “Yet, we’re better for it. And, you’re welcome.”

“Thanks,” Ron said softly.

Harry rolled, wrapped his arm on Ron, slept with the head on Ron’s shoulder.

Still, Ron wasn’t certain about this. Nudity was one thing. Harry taking Ron’s cumshot was a different level, a different matter, but one that a tired Ron decided was best not to challenge at the moment. He’d have to find a chance to write in his journal in the morning. Ron went to sleep.

* * *

On Thursday , the eighteenth, they were a few days into hiking along the remote trail across the Swiss Alps, hiking toward Austria. Facing the sunset, sitting on a big flat rock near the edge of a cliff, was Ron. This rock, in a field of many stretching hundreds of yards, was perched on the edge with a stunning view of a deep but narrow valley. Ron threw an empty ink jar down the steep slope; the shattering was heard several seconds later. Upon Ron’s lap was the leather bound book, laid wide open, with tight writing on both pages of parchment around many drawings, and the tip of his todger laid on the bottom part of the crack between the pages. Ron’s quill dipped itself into a new inkjar and continued writing.

“Littering?” Hermione asked, walking up.

Ron turned his head, looked at her bossoms, the new reflection of the parchment captured his stiffening dick onto its pages, now adorned with a drawing of his hard erection.

“Pervert,” Hermione said.

Ron grinned.

Hermione sat on the rock, leaned into Ron’s right shoulder, her legs propped up. Her eyes focused on the hard erection on the book.

“That’s—” Hermione asked.

“Nothing,” Ron said.

“You’re writing—” Hermione said.

“A journal,” Ron said, “Not much, just little things since starting Hogwarts. Granddad gave it, at Mum’s suggestion.

“Can I read—” Hermione asked.

“No,” Ron said.

“Harry won’t like that biography of him—” Hermione said.

“It’s either me or Skeeter,” Ron said, “His choice.”

Hermione’s fingers touched, traced the fine lines of his captured statue.

“What—” Hermione started.

“Accident,” Ron said, “Not the worst thing to put in there.”

Ron put the journal aside, pulled her onto his leg.

“You’re trying?” Hermione asked.

“I love you,” Ron said, “Should be reason enough.”

“Protection?” Hermione asked.

“Luckily I copied the other condom spell into the journal,” Ron said.

“You—studying?” Hermione asked.

“If it’s important, like you,” Ron said, “It’s just birth control, so not as costly as the one he memorized.”

“It’s a bit fast—” Hermione started.

“And—” Ron pulled his journal to a new blank page “—put it into the book?”

“Alright,” Hermione said.

They parted enough until she was on one of th epages, facing the valley. Ron got behind her, sat on the other page. Hermione leaned forward; he slid his shaft across the paper and penetrated, thankful for the charm that kept him from getting papercuts as he began to thrust.

“Deeper,” Hermione said.

Ron spied Harry coming up as Hermione moaned, turned around, and left.

Ron continued to thrust, in and out, his testicles resting on the parchement of the page; his shaft moved, before he pulled out. She turned around as he was still ejaculating, the surges being captured on the page below.

“Ron!” Hermione snapped.

Ron followed her eyes, to the page, where it clearly showed their posteriors forever locked by the pair of gonads and his column of flesh pushing into her feminine wilds. Pubic hair accentuating the act. Their faces annotating the top corners of the pages.

“You need to—” Hermione started.

“Tearing out a page breaks the charms,” Ron said, “I can’t without destroying it—besides, it never leaves my presence.”

Ron bent over, the journal shrunk itself, made it easier for him to shove it up his arse hole.

“So that’s why—” Hermione started.

“It captured the moment,” Ron said.

“You seduced me with a book!” Hermione said.

“You’re Hermione,” Ron said, “What’s the shame of it going into a book?”

“I never said—” Hermione started.

“Then don’t fear it,” Ron suggested.

“Perhaps,” Hermione said.

They returned to a small shtone shelter, the one for that night.

“Given that I’ve written about you in there,” Ron said, “It’s likely good to finally capture one essence—I do love you, and I’m not ashamed to let others see that.”

Ron’s dick softened, he did nothing to wipe the off–white semen from it, letting it cling and show, as he came into view of Harry and Gia in the shelter. Both Harry and Gia were sipping on some wine.

“So, you wanted something?” Ron asked.

“Dinner’s ready,” Harry said, pointing to some chicken teriyaki.

“Was thinking more vegetarian,” Hermione said.

“With you playing with a sausage—” Harry started.

“Hey!” Ron snapped, his ears turning green as he glared at Harry.

“I thought you had better manners!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Me? Manners?” Harry asked, breaking into laughter.

“Just don’t refer to my dick as a sausage!” Ron protested.

“It’s a fine sausage,” Harry said, “That rock you found seemed interesting. Gia.”

Gia and Harry left the shelter.

Ron quickly ate. He filled a spare pot with cold water, dunked in his cup, and started to clean.

‘i did not volunteer to be a maid,” Hermione siad.

“Giving them space,” Ron said.

“Space? We—together, and he’s the one that butted—” Hermione stammered.

“He saw and left,” Ron said, “We’re getting on each other’s nerves, a bit of space is needed, and we need to respect that.”

“Yet we’re butt naked,” Hermione said.

“Yeah, especially because we are,” Ron said.

* * *

Buzzzzzzzz!

Harry swiped at the bee flying past him on that Saturday morning, the twentieth of July.

“That’d just make it mad,” Hermione said.

“Shoo! Shoo!” Harry said, protecting his small metal pan of oatmeal.

“Could ask it for some honey,” Hermione said.

“Away!” Harry shouted.

Buzzzzzzzz!

It landed on Harry’s penis.

“OW!” Harry yelled as the bee fell off, “It just stung me!” Harry held for a moment. “Of all the places..”

“Could’ve gone for your balls,” Hermione said.

“That’s not a cheerful thought,” Harry said.

“I’ll look at it,” Hermione said, kneeling in front of Harry.

She held Harry’s penis, rubbed a bit at the red welt.

“It hurts!” Harry quipped, his penis began to stiffen.

“I’ll do a spell if it gets worse,” Hermione said, his hard erection in her fingers.

“Worse?” Harry sputtered.

“It’s what Mom does,” Hermione said, “Though doubt she’d do it here.”

“Do it!” Harry said.

Hermione leaned, kissed on the side of Harry’s hard erection, right on the welt.

“What are you—” Ron demanded, coming into view.

“It’s nothing,” Harry said.

“Don’t lie!” Ron said, “I take Gia for a little bath in the stream, to come back and find you two—”

“It was a bee sting,” Hermione said, standing up.

“Oh, so that’s the excuse?” Ron said, “I wasn’t born yesterday.”

“A bee stung my willy,” Harry said, “Hermione was just making sure—”

“Stop bullshitting,” Ron seethed, “Just give it to me straight.”

“Enough!” Hermione exclaimed, her brown eyes glaring.

“He tricks you—” Ron started.

Hermione drew her wand.

“She means it,” Harry said.

“As you two seem to have some unfinished business,” Hermione said, “We’re not moving until you finish it.”

“Excuse me?” Harry said.

“You duke it out, now,” Gia said.

“What?” Ron asked, eyebrows raised.

“Simple, you wrestle,” Hermione said, “And it’s not over until one of you erupts.”

Hermione grabbed Harry by the shoulders, while Gia grabbed Ron by his shoulders. Together, the girls pushed them down until Harry and Ron were facing each other, keeling on the grass. Gia teased Ron’s, while Hermione teased Harry’s to be stiff, side by side, tips plunged into the other’s pubic hair.

“Now,” Hermione said, “In order to win, must get the other to ejaculate.”

“Hand jobs?” Ron complained, “This is so…”

It started with a short trickle from Gia, followed by Hermione, the golden shower sprayed between the chests of Ron and Harry; their dicks twitched. Ron reached for his dick, but instead held Harry’s. Harry’s hand countered, interlocked onto Ron’s shaft. Both Ron and Harry started trying to stroke.

“Real wrestling!” Gia said, “No hand–job stuff.”

“What if we—” Harry started.

“You can give him a hand job later,” Gia said, “I don’t think Ron would mind.”

Hermione took out her wand, cursed, aimed at both Harry and Ron.

“There, it’s binding,” Hermione said, “Argue, wrestle, whatever, we want to see you two sort out whatever issues you’ve got. Shoving might be the first thing, in the meanwhile, we’ll be watching.

Ron’s hands flew upward, shoved Harry in the chest. “See what you—”

“What did you do?” Gia asked, as she and Hermione sat back on the stone table.

“Binds them together until they can both orgasm,” Hermione said, “However, they can’t orgasm until their differences are resolved. In the meanwhile, we get to watch two gorgeous guys wrestle. Too bad we used up all the popcorn, I could go for some.”

Harry tackled Ron, they rolled.

“You’re downright devious,” Gia said.

“I’ve got my moments,” Hermione said, smiling, “Besides, we simply have to be able to trust, period. Harry’s fine with you and Ron, but Ron’s always been a bit…touchy.”

After Harry and Ron had created their messes, they resumed hiking, reaching Austria the next day, where they caught a train.


	7. Romania

After exploring Vienna, Budapest, and Bucharest, Romania, they caught a train north on July thirthieth, north out of Bucharest. A taxi from the station, and they came to an orange barn beside the dirt road nestled into the mountains. Harry paid the driver, who turned around and left.

“You know, I’ve never actually visited Charlie here,” Ron said.

“He gave me directions, we’ve got the orange barn,” Harry said.

They walked up the lane, between some trees, deeper into the isolated valley.

“So, you know where we’re going?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “A few miles, maybe even sneak in a broom ride—”

“No!” Hermione said, “We’re walking.”

They all felt the compression wave go through them as they passed through a pair of stone pillars, trees to either side, along with a sign, No Muggles! They kept walking, on the lane, between the fake stone trees planted to both sides. Roars came from ahead in the distance, and they passed out of the trees to see a vast cleared field. Gia’s eyes widened.

“Dragons,” Gia said, “Those are dragons?”

“Yes,” Harry said, pointing to the figures in the distance, “Those are most definitely dragons.”

“Write Hagrid and tell him where we are,” Ron said to Harry, “Maybe we can see Norbert.”

Harry chuckled, Gia seemed puzzle. Hermione explained Hagrid hatching Norbert during their first year at Hogwarts.

Buildings in the distance steadily became closer, stenches of burning vegetation came their way, the growing heat caused sweat to roll down their skin, dribbling from every protrusion.

“Hagrid got into trouble for it,” Harry said, “We’ve kept it quiet.”

“Why?” asked Gia.

“Impossible to tame,” Ron said, “So they’re unsuitable for normal pets. Imagine the keeping a dragon in Hermione’s back yard, hard not to notice.”

They reached a two story stone building, in front a badly burnt wooden sign with a picture of a dragon remaining on it.

“Well, guess this is it,” Harry said, pushing on the singed, black, door.

Inside, desks were cluttered with parchment, a few quills scribbled notes, gloves piled in the corner, aprons hung from hooks on the back wall. A naked man with balding silver hair was scribbling at one desk, this man looked up at the visitors, eyes wide, and stared for a moment.

This man spoke, the words unintelligible as it was in Romanian.

“Charlie Weasley,” Ron said, before raising his voice, “WEASLEY!”

The man cobbled up, showing the fluffy silver pubic hair, walked out of view, and so they waited.

“Think he understood you?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Ron said, “I raised my voice, of course he understood.”

“World doesn’t work that way,” Hermione said.

“If you’re so clever, you learn the language,” Ron said.

They continued to wait, until the man returned, followed by the red haired wizard in his twenties known as Charlie Weasley. Charlie, too, was naked, though he had red stubblw where his pubic hair should have been, leaving a smooth dick hanging. Another man, with brown hair, also naked with no pubic hair with a circumcised penis, similar in age to Charlie, followed.

“You made it!” Charlie said, “So good to see you, that is Mr. Rozell,” he pointed to the silver haired man, “Our director, and this is Adam.”

“Greetings,” Adam said, “You must be—” reaching for Harry’s hand.

“Harry,” Harry said.

“I’m Ron!” Ron said, pointing to himself.

“My brother,” Charlie said, “His friend, and their girlfriends.”

“Greetings,” Adam said, extending a hand to shake, “Glad you told ‘em to dress properly.”

“You mean naked?” Hermione said.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” Harry said.

“Dragons don’t take well to charms,” Charlie said, “Even cooling charms, so it’s practical to bare it all than to take other measures.”

“Not to mention—” Adam said, “There are other benefits.”

Adam blushed as his sausage began to swell, his hands tried to shield as his hard erection jutted out. Charlie glanced at this.

“Like he said, other benefits,” Charlie said, “Lets show you around, come.”

They went through the door into a small gym. Charlie waved his wand, conjured up some mats.

“Mats?” Ron asked.

“Dragons aren’t to be fooled around with,” Charlie said, “You need to learn to play dead. When there are no other options, play dead and hopefully the dragon will lose interest. This has saved my life on a number of occasions already—don’t tell Dad.”

“Are we going to die from dragons?” Gia asked.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Charlie said, “Dragons are some of the most marvelous beings around. They are intelligent and curious, usually well mannered and docile.”

“Hagrid, is that you?” Harry asked.

“He has the right idea,” Charlie said.

“Alright, one of you try it now,” Adam said.

“Harry,” Charlie said.

Harry relaxed, fell. “Ow!” Harry grumbled.

“Not very convincing,” Adam said, “Um… Ron, right?”

“Yeah,” Ron said.

Ron relaxed, fell on his back, legs open.

“Snack’s your nickname,” Adam said.

“Not funny,” Ron said, getting up.

They kept practicing for an hour, before Charlie made the mats disappear.

“I suggest you practice it some more,” Charlie said, “But, you didn’t come here just for that, so we’ll show you around.”

Charlie led them outside, showed them around the other buildings; including the barn, the veterinary building, and the dragon shed which was currently empty. Finally, Charlie went through a fence to see—

“Dragons,” Gia said, “Up close.”

“See?” Harry asked, his right hand on her sweaty shoulder.

Charlie spent a while going over the different breeds before they headed back, making their way to the administration building.

“So, those are the dragons,” Charlie said, “Wards are tied to all those stone trees you see, so Muggles won’t notice, and keeps the dragons inside.”

“Aw,” Hermione said.

“We’re remote, but occasionally a Muggle will approach,” Charlie said, “A bit of fear turns them away.”

Charlie stopped at a long basin, outside of the building, paused as he held his penis out of habit. Yellow pee flowed out.

“Where’s the toilets?” Hermione asked.

Charlie blushed.

“We’re guys here,” Adam said, “Number one here, number two, there’s a toilet inside for that. As you can tell, he’s getting a bit dehydrated.”

“Adam!” Charlie snapped.

However, Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Gia, all watched the rest of the deep yellow torrent pour out.

“Drink more water,” Adam said, “Dehydration’s more of an issue here than you think.”

“Can only imagine why,” Hermione said, scraping some sweat from her skin.

They went around the administration building, walked across the small lane, to the small group of stone cottages arranged in a circle, each one partially buried into an earthen berm behind the cottage. Another basin, along a small cluster of showers, were to the other side of the circle.

“Nothing fancy,” Charlie said as they came to one with a red door with Weasley etched into it.

Charlie held the door open, they entered. Underwear hanging from the nearest coat hook, they were in the middle of the living area, small enough to make the sofa a tight squeeze with the coffee table near the cold fireplace in the middle of the wall to the left. On the far right was a small door to a loo, while a ladder and a small round table separated the living area from the kitchen. Several bookcases lined the walls with various Wizard books plus a small collection of Muggle books that occupied a single shelf.

“Most definitely a bachelor pad,” Hermione said.

Every piece of furniture, every flat surface, had something laying on it, from shirts to a discarded newspaper; opened and half spent cereal boxes were on that small round dining table and scattered elsewhere. Dirty dishes roamed from the tall mess in the sink to spill over onto the counters, at least a foot deep in places.

“Well, sleeping options are up in the loft or the sofa,” Charlie said, “These aren’t the largest of suites.”

Harry climbed the ladder, to look around at several planks of plywood with the rafters not too far above.

“It’ll do,” Harry said. He swept with his arms, clothes tumbled down. “Yeah, enough to fit.”

Meanwhile, Hermione shuffled her feet, blazed a path to the bookcases that lined the walls, and began to rummage through some of the Wizard books. Ron traipsed the short distance, laid down on the sofa. Gia grimaced at the stacks of dirty dishes as she crossed over to the loo, where she closed the door. Charlie, however, reached into the refrigerator, brought out several bottles, handed them around, and sat at the dining table, indicating for Harry to do the same.

“So, how’s your trip been?” Charlie asked, opening a bottle.

Harry opened the bottle in his hand, sipped, and tasted the butterbeer going down his throat.

“Interesting,” Harry said.

“You showed up naked,” Charlie said, “Useful, because it meant I didn’t have to talk you out of anything else.”

“They tricked us,” Ron said, “Hermione here, and Gia, except we found it…it’s got its ups and down, but like it better than not.”

“All the way from England?” Charlie asked.

“Yep,” Harry said before they traded stories.

* * *

Ron spent some time on the sofa, laying there, chipping in, but letting Harry carry on with Charlie. Hermione stood there, reading through the books that she was helping herself to. Ron waved his hard erection, Hermione groaned, kept trying to avoid it.

“So, you lost your virginity?” Charlie asked.

“Hell, yeah,” Ron said.

“Hmph!” Hermione said, “I’m not some hooker—”

“Hermione!” Ron said, standing up, “Can we—outside.”

“Why?” Hermione asked.

“Come,” Ron said.

“Go,” Gia said.

“I don’t get it,” Charlie said.

“Outside,” Ron said to Hermione.

Ron ushered Hermione the few paces to the door, opened it, and they went out into the moon lit darkness of the night.

“We’ll be a while,” Ron said before the door closed.

“Mind explaining—” Hermione started.

“Yeah,” Ron said, “Get a bit away, privacy.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” Hermione said.

Ron brought them to a fast halt on the lane, turned to her. His eyes surveyed the nipples on her bare chest.

“Do you love me?” Ron asked.

“Of course you know I do,” Hermione said.

“Do you? I’m having trouble, I can’t tell,” Ron said, “I don’t know.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hermione said.

“I can’t read minds,” Ron said, “All I know is what you say and what you do. You’re dismissive, or embarrassed—”

“I’m not embarrassed,” Hermione said.

“I can’t tell,” Ron said.

“You know I love you,” Hermione said.

“Then act it,” Ron said, “We’re a couple, it’s perfectly acceptable that you jump my bones, or I jump yours. Heck, Harry and Gia are probably doing it now.”

“You’re counting,” Hermione said.

“We’ve done it once since Paris,” Ron said, “Tell me that you love me, show me, and we’ll be better. I need to know, and I need you to tell me, just not now, but every time you think it, alright?”

“I…sorry, I didn’t realize you’ve been so shallow,” Hermione said.

“It’s not shallow,” Ron said, “Every night Dad came home from work, he’d kiss Mum, they’d hug, and I never asked how late they’d stay up after we had gone to bed. I’m not saying I need to store my todger in you, though I wouldn’t mind—”

“Pervert,” Hermione said.

“For you,” Ron said, “Say we forget them, enjoy the night, and…guess, do you need me to read to you?”

“No,” Hermione said.

They walked along the lane.

“You can hold things too,” Ron said.

“That’s what you were after!” Hermione said.

Ron stopped them.

“It’s all about sex!” Hermione said.

“I want sex, I won’t deny what’s a part of me,” Ron said, his hard erection facing her, “Why should I deny that I find my friend beautiful and sexy? I love you and I’m not ashamed of it.”

“You should apply here, you like it naked,” Hermione said.

“You saw them,” Ron said, “Doubt any of them works a day without their stiffy, at least once. Do they let it bother them? I don’t think so, nor should it bother you. You ought to be able to trust mine, what do you want to do with it?”

“I…” Hermione uttered, her eyes roving his sweaty skin, the moonlight shimmered off of it, her eyes focused on the the hard erection.

“You wanted me to travel naked so you can see it,” Ron said, “You see it, please let me know you appreciate it.”

“Of course I do,” Hermione said.

“I do want sex with you,” Ron said, “Can we please have some? Or, touch me, assure me that you do love me.”

Hermione reached, held the hot, loose, testicles.

“Feel better?” Hermione asked.

“Hold onto them,” Ron said, bringing them back to a slow walk, they went along the stone trees.

“That was easy,” Hermione said, “Good thing it’s night, or they’d all see us.”

“So what?” Ron said, “You don’t get it, we ought to be okay with it.”

“And the dragons?” Hermione asked, her eyes glancing around them, brought them both to a halt next to a pond.

“Stone trees contain them,” Ron said.

“Except we’re not in the trees,” Hermione said.

Ron glanced around, realized they same thing Hermione had, they were in the open, inside the reservation. A short way away, a red dragon had its eyes on the two naked teenagers. A turn of the head, and it was clear the red dragon was not alone; there were a couple of yellows, a blue, and in all, a dozen had them surrounded.

“Know any good spells?” Ron asked.

“They don’t take kindly to that,” Hermione said, “And I haven’t practiced—your broom.”

“I left it back at the cabin,” Ron said.

“You didn’t have to take it out,” Hermione said.

“It seemed best to do it in advance for tomorrow as that cross–brace really hurts on the way out,” Ron said, “Well, I’ve got an idea.”

“You?” Hermione asked.

“Been known to happen, from time to time,” Ron said, turning to her, “Ignore the dragons.”

Ron leaned in, planted his lips onto hers. He moved, began to lick her neck.

“Now?” Hermione asked.

“Now,” Ron said, “All the way.”

Hermione rubbed Ron’s buttocks as he massaged downward on her. Hermione laid down, her back to the grass near the pond.

“Vulnerable,” Hermione said, “And being watched.”

“Exciting, isn’t it?” Ron asked.

Puffs of flame from the dragons kept them illuminated. Ron brought lifted her hips a bit into the air, stayed on his knees, and rested his hard cock on the folds. A red glow from his magical condom sheathed the flesh before he pushed inward; the dragons studied as Ron’s hard cock moved, the shaft going in and out, with the moans that were new to them.

“We’re doing this for the dragons,” Hermione said, with a level of disbelief in her voice.

“They seem interested,” Ron said.

“Don’t doubt that,” Hermione said.

Ron pulled his hard cock out, the condom failed as the surge started. Off white shot beneath the flicker of dragon breath, Ron ejaculated, the semen left a trail on Hermione’s front, along her chest, and on her stomach. Dragons moved in a bit closer, to study the two of them.

“That’s it,” Ron said to them, “It’s one way we can have sex.”

Ron turned around, sat on the ground next to Hermione; she sat up. The dragons seemed to get the message, wandered away.

“You just had to have them watch us,” Hermione said.

“They were curious, and we’re in their territory,” Ron said, bringing his knees up to his elbows, “We’ve got a pass for the night, if we want to loiter.”

“They saw you—” Hermione started.

“It’s not like it’s a first,” Ron said, “You saw the photographs, I showed my snot to Professor McGonagall, it got onto her robes. Those girls on that first train took it. I’ve been doing it left and right; what’s a dragon or two or a dozen? Just another audience.”

“I wasn’t counting on it being a show,” Hermione said, “Of course I love you.”

“Don’t wipe, leave it be,” Ron said, deflecting her hand from her stomach.

“Just like you—” Hermione started, “Sorry.”

“Know what, I doubt they’ve seen a couple before,” Ron said, “A show to get us out of trouble, I think it’s a fair trade, so I don’t mind. Do you?”

“Not when you put it like that,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

“And while I know you’re embarrassed right now about being seen naked with me,” Ron said, “How do you think I feel?”

“Ron!” Hermione snapped.

“Alright, I’m not embarrassed…proud is more like it,” Ron said, turning his head to her, “You’re my friend and I do love you.”

Ron leaned over, kissed, before laying down on his side. Hermione curled up with him, held the scrotum, as they both fell to sleep.


	8. Birthday

“Ron!” Hermione said, as she woke him in the morning.

Ron woke, still next to the pond, in the middle of the dragon reservation. He was on his back, todger draped to the side, and his testicles were in their pouch, not hiding, but instead soaking in the heat of the sunshine.

“Can’t we sleep?” Ron asked, tired.

“With dragons about?” Hermione asked.

“We’re in—oh,” Ron said, remembering they were were in the field. He opened his eyes and he could a red and an orange dragon not too far away.

“Yeah, Oh,” Hermione said, “We’re in _their_ field.”

Ron spun and got up, he stood.

“Yeah, breakfast,” Ron said.

“You’re thinking about food—” Hermione asked.

“Always thinking about food,” Ron said, “Unless it’s also you.”

Hermione snorted.

They turned around, surveyed for the nearest stone tree, and walked. They entered the treeline.

“Sorry,” Hermione said, “I didn’t realize how sensitive you are.”

“You’re witty and wonderful,” Ron said, “I know you don’t mean it when you’re being sarcastic, but you say something enough and you begin to believe it; things break. I don’t want things to break with you.”

“That’s…reasoned,” Hermione said.

“I try not to use it, but I do have a brain,” Ron said.

“You’d rather keep it in your crotch,” Hermione said.

“If you’d rather I think there, I can,” Ron said, “And, you’ll want to watch me pee.”

“I—” Hermione started.

“Lets follow Harry’s example,” Ron said, stopping as they got to the lane, and he turned to her, “There’s no question they love each other, right?”

“Of course not,” Hermione said.

“Why?” Ron said, “Because they take every opportunity to be fascinated with each other, to love each other, and I think we can stand to do the same. It’s a wacky idea, I know, but it’d drive out the doubts.”

“You’ve got doubts?” Hermione asked.

“I get them, especially when the sarcasm becomes demeaning,” Ron said, “Maybe that’s what gets triggered when I see Harry too close to you; I don’t want those doubts, I want you.”

“I’m sorry for not realizing it’s hurting you,” Hermione said.

Ron hugged her, brought his chin to her shoulder, lifted her.

“Are you protected?” came the voice.

A pair of red headed twins came zooming past, Fred and George, on their Cleansweeps, flew around Ron and Hermione. Both Fred and George were naked.

“What are you doing here?” Ron asked.

“Making sure you two don’t get expelled,” Fred said.

“Favor to Mum,” George said.

“But she’s—” Ron started.

“She wouldn’t want to see _you_ —” Fred pointed at Ron “—get expelled because you knock _her_ —” he pointed to Hermione “—up and get her pregnant. She’s not pregnant, is she?”

“No!” Hermione snapped.

“Think we could hook you up with some protection,” Fred said.

“I don’t need _your_ protection!” Ron said.

“Who do you think distracted the dragons away from you this morning?” George said, “Sleeping in the middle of them!”

“Let’s get back to Charlie’s,” George said, “Party’s about to begin.”

“Looks like you adopted the uniform,” Hermione said.

“You guys made it clothing optional,” Fred said.

“That was her doing,” Ron said.

“I gave you plenty of chances—” Hermione said.

“It’s too hot anyways,” George said.

“You stay away from her!” Ron barked.

“Relax,” Fred said.

They made it back to the cabin, entered.

Ginny, naked with her pubes shaven, stood in the kitchen, frosting a cake. Adam, sharing the cramp kitchen, had eggs and bacon on the stove, while Charlie carried a platter of fried chicken into the cabin. The food was placed onto the dining table, it had been lowered to that of coffee table.

“That’s making me hungry,” Ron said.

“Is Harry—?” Fred asked.

“Upstairs,” Gia said.

“Fancy, calling that the _upstairs_!” George said.

“It’s not much, but it’s _my_ home,” Charlie said.

“Ready, just need the birthday boy,” Adam said.

“HARRY!” Gia shouted up, “HARRY!”

Feet first, stepped on the top rung, before jumping. Harry came down, fast, his eyes going wide as he saw Ginny, staring back at his exposed genitals.

“Ginny—” Harry stammered.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” George started, which caught on, and everybody shouted it.

Harry glanced around, tried to use his hands to cover up.

“Birthday suit is most appropriate,” Fred said, “Plus, food’s getting cold.”

“Let’s eat!” Ron exclaimed.

Fred’s hand escorted Harry, to the open chair around the lowered table. Harry sat, crossed his legs as he propped his feet up on the wooden table in front of him, and leaned back. Harry’s hand pulled his testicles up, letting them rest, and his penis stayed steady; Ginny kept glancing at it.

“Make yourself at home,” Fred said, handing Harry a plate of food.

On Harry’s plate was an English breakfast with a side slice of cake. Everyboyd watched carefully as he took a bite and chomped on it. With a serious concentraion, Fred and George watched Harry’s dick flash blue, followed by a fast torrent. Harry blushed as he peed.

“There is a toilet—!” Fred said, pointing.

“Make this cake?” Harry asked, studying Fred’s facial expression.

“Why do you ask?” Geroge asked.

“Food!” Ron said.

“It’ll keep, Adam?” Charlie said.

“Sure, not a problem,” Adam said, standing.

Charlie went to a closet, pulled out a pair of Trigger 10’s, a Cleansweep 7, and a Nimbus 1000.

“Of course,” Hermione said.

“Harry?” Charlie asked.

“We’ve got our brooms,” Harry said.

“Where?” George asked.

“We’ll be outside,” Ron said.

Ron and Harry left the cabin; both bent over to start pulling their brooms out.

“That’s gotta hurt,” Ginny said.

“There’s better ways,” Fred said as Harry pulled the crossbracing out.

“Ouch,” George said, “Just looking at it.”

“It’s not fun,” Harry said, waddling carefully, “Can you wait, need to take a dump.”

“A good flier can do it while riding,” Fred said, “Just don’t shit your handle.”

“I—didn’t think of that,” Harry said, mounting his broom.

Harry flew; didn’t glance over his shoulder, so didn’t realize that Ginny and Adam were right behind as Harry shifted his butt. He rolled first, took several attempts before he could be stable. Ginny paid attention as Harry’s anus began to spread, to squeeze out the first bit. A long chunk fell into the trees right before they came to the large field, with the traditional hoops. They landed, and Harry squatted.

“Not here!” Adam snapped at Harry.

“Sorry,” Harry said, standing.

Adam and Charlie were sporting hard erections as they went over to the box; pulled out a Quaffle, a Bludger, and a snitch.

“Obviously quite casual,” Fred said to Charlie.

“It’s an OVEN!” Charlie said, “Frequently is, so obviously…you get used to it.”

Ginny stayed on the ground for the first round, her eyes on Harry’s testicles, penis, freely hanging as he flew; she watched as it stiffened, as they all stiffened. Harry flew over to Ron during a short rest.

“Will you tell your sister off?” Harry said, “She’s oogling me!”

“You’re naked, what’d you expect?” Ron asked.

“Her eyes are following _ME_!” Harry said.

“She’s not the only one mate,” Ron said, “Face it, it ain’t red, think that’s it.”

Harry flew away, watched the eyes of Charlie tracking him, Adam’s too. Eventually, Adam scored the last of the goals, some cheers.

“I must be getting old,” Charlie said, “Let’s head back.”

They flew back, over the trees, to ring of cottages, entered, still coated in sweat. Harry cleared the sofa, laid down. He stretched his legs, before bringing them up over his torso, stretching them apart, when Ginny sat down, on the sofa, right where Harry’s legs were about to go..

“That was fun,” Ginny said.

“Okay, what did you guys spike?” Harry said, “I’m still hard as a nail.”

“Trade secret,” Fred said, while checking the food in the oven.

“How much more do you have?” Ginny asked while her hand reached for Harry’s loose pouch.

“What—?” Harry started, as Ginny’s fingers felt the loose testicles, as stretched apart as they could be, against the thighs.

“Like we’re telling you,” Fred said, “Besides, it’s experimental.”

“Ginny!” Harry snapped.

“To test this on customers would be unethical,” George said, “Family, now that’s fair game.”

“Will you stop feeling my balls!” Harry said.

“Let her,” Ron said, standing next to the cold fireplace, watching, “You know she can’t afford any other gift for your birthday.” Ron knew he was provoking his brothers a bit.

“Saving your cock for that other…” Ginny went soft.

“Like she’s going to bite them,” Fred said.

“No!” Harry snapped, though he restrained himself as he didn’t want to harm Ginny.

Ginny’s right hand, her fingers, felt into Harry’s soft sack, working into the testicles, while her left ring and middle fingers stayed lodged inside her vagina, her left thumb teased her clitoris.

“Well, it is your birthday,” Ron said to Harry, “Maybe you’d rather get bare bottom spankings.”

“What a splendid idea!” Harry snapped, getting the impression the Weasley family was ganging up to let Ginny molest him.

“You do seem happy about it,” Ron said.

“Their—of course my cock’s up!” Harry seethed.

“Shh!” Ginny said, “You’re ruining my vibe!”

Harry conceded as Ginny’s right hand kept playing with his testicles. She’d alternate between craddling the entire pouch, holding a single testicle, massaging, poking, and prodding, even feeling in between the two toward his hard cock. She repeatedly tugged on the strands of hair on the sack, feeling each one, as she kept this up.

BUZZ!

Ginny sighed, relaxed for a moment, her hand softened its grip of Harry’s balls, and she exhaled, smiling.

“How many?” Ron asked Ginny.

“Three,” Ginny said.

“See, not too bad Harry,” Ron said, “Real things are likely more stimulating.”

“Real things?” Harry said, “Don’t tell me—”

“These are simply better,” Ginny said, back to feeling Harry’s scrotum.

“Get off!” Harry said.

“Already did,” Ginny replied, removing the magical vibrator from her vulva, the one shaped like a dildo, “George, the silencing charm’s busted again.”

“Let me see it,” George said.

Ginny got up. Harry put his legs down.

“Could’ve been worse,” Ron said, “She could’ve given you a blow job.”

“Thanks!” Harry snapped.

“New birthday tradition, playing with your balls,” Ron said.

“Gee—” Harry started.

“Interesting idea,” Fred said, now standing over the back of the sofa as Hermione and Gia came back into the cabin.

“We _were_ going to sit down—” George said.

Harry rolled his eyes; Fred and George sat on top of Harry’s legs, pushing them apart a bit so their rears were between and their bare buttocks pressed against Harry’s bare skin. Harry shrugged, decided not to object. Ron, though, sat on Harry’s stomach, Harry’s hard cock against the thigh.

“Lumpy sofa,” Ron said.

“How about a dragon?” Charlie asked while pulling some food out of the oven.

Tentacles came out of the sofa, wrapped around Ron tightly. One tentacle wrapped around, teased Ron’s hard erection. Fred and George, both startled, jumped off.

“Your sofa!” George exclaimed while the tentacles massaged into Ron’s hard cock.

Ron looked at Harry, smiled, and shrugged.

“Fred, George—?” Charlie asked.

“As much as we’d love to take credit—” Fred said.

“What’s for dinner?” Ron asked.

“Seems to be you,” George said.

Ron’s face turned purplish, but the sofa vanished, causing Ron and Harry to hit the floor, hard.

“Ow,” Harry said.

“Do you even want gifts?” Hermione asked.

“That’d be nice,” Harry said.

Harry took the chair most opposite of Ginny, sat.

“Hermione, how do we check the food?” Ron asked.

“For what?” Hermione asked.

“Anything my brothers may have added?” Ron asked.

“Tall order, I’d have to know what they’re capable of,” Hermione said.

“Anything,” George said.

“I want you to solemnly swear that it’s safe,” Harry said, “Pranks are fine, but it’s got to be safe.”

“Define _safe_ ,” Fred said, “Will we intentionally poison? No. However, unexpected side effects are normal.”

“We did not spike the dinner,” George said.

“Your dick is turning blue,” Hermione said.

“No it’s—” George started.

“It is,” Fred said.

Everybody looked at George’s hard erection, it was indeed turning blue.

“Best get that looked at, by an expert,” Ron said, non–chalantly.

“You do it then, if you’re so clever,” George said, “You’re the biggest dick around.”

“Hold those thoughts,” Fred said, escorting George back to the bathroom.

They finished dinner, and Harry went back over to the sofa that had reappeared.

“I sort of played post,” Charlie said, “Guess your trip wasn’t a complete mystery.” Charlie brought out a couple of packages.

Harry went to the first one, addressed with the recognizable typical scribble; he opened the note.

Harry,

Happy Birthday! I hope you find this helpful for the year. I tried sending chocolates, but the post refused due to some export issue. Hope you’re enjoying your day and see you in September.

Hagrid

Attached to it, was a book, Sizzling Book of Dragons , which started to huff out flame, the smoke of which billowed and added a layer of soot to his glasses.

“Stun it!” Charlie said, recognition filled his eyes.

Harry removed his wand aimed it, the book calmed down.

“Any guesses?” Ron asked.

Harry continued with gifts, among which were Quidditch: Rules of the International Association of Quidditch from Hermione, Chudley Canons T–shirt from Ron, and a box of assorted gags from Fred and George.

“Come with me,” Gia whispered to Harry.

“Where ya going?” Ginny asked.

“Let them go,” Ron said, after he studied Harry’s eyes.

Harry and Gia left the cabin.

“Been up all day?” Gia asked, her hand touched Harry’s dick.

“Fred or George did something,” Harry said.

“Looks handsome on you,” Gia said, “Hermione mentioned a spot.”

Gia led the way, along the lane, turning into the stone trees, but stopped before the trees took a hard right.

“Um…there might be dragons,” Harry said.

“You’re a wizard, so surely you ought to be able to handle a dragon,” Gia said.

“Of course,” Harry said, unsure himself, but felt like he ought to agree.

Gia took the first step, Harry with her, into the open field, toward the pond.

“They see boys all the time, of course,” Gia said, “Dragons don’t see girls very often, and rarely do they witness…us.”

“I didn’t think they hired girls to keep the dragons,” Harry said.

“Bit chauvinistic?” Gia asked.

“Maybe,” Harry said, “Doubt the boys keep their activities off the field.”

“Well,” Gia said, “I’ll ignore that.” She turned to Harry, the evening sun still on them. “I wanted to tell you, Happy Sixteenth Birthday.”

“Thank you,” Harry said.

“Also, I’ve been tracking my cycle,” Gia said, “Today’s a good day.”

“Your what?” Harry asked.

“Means I can’t get pregnant, so you don’t need a condom,” Gia said.

“Oh—OH!” Harry said.

Gia held both of his hands.

“I’m glad to have met you,” Gia said, “Happy Birthday.”

“I know,” Harry said.

“All this sweat,” Gia said, her hands slipped to his hips.

“Oh—OH!” Harry said, now understanding her intent.

Harry held her hands, leaned in, kissed. She wrapped her arms around him, hugged; her nipples pushed into his chest. He lifted his elbow, let her sniff closer to his armpit. She lifted her legs, he wasn’t expecting the weight shift, and they tumbled.

“Sorry,” Gia said.

“I’m fine,” Harry said, rolling onto his back.

“Heard that Ginny—” Gia started.

“She—they—like I could curse her!” Harry said, “Felt me up.”

“How?” Gia asked.

Harry brought his knees to his chest, legs spread, kept his balls up.

“Like this,” Harry said, “She got off feeling my balls!”

“Nice balls,” Gia said, massaging into Harry’s loose sack.

“You—you, I love,” Harry said, “She, she’s in love with my legend. Can we not—?”

“I like them,” Gia said, knealing in closer, she kissed right between the sweaty lumps. “Feel better?”

“Again!” Harry quipped.

Gia laughed for a moment, before she kissed them. A dragon in red, curled up, watched them. Harry giggled. Gia straddled him, pinning his legs beneath hers, she leaned down to face him.

“You’ve matured, Mister,” Gia said, “You fought the demons, at least enough to have fun, that’s what matters.”

Gia adjusted his hard erection as she sat up, it slipped in.

“Different,” Harry said.

Gia, though, despite the dragon watching, flexed, her fingers guided his shaft as it slipped inside her.

“Like I said, Happy Birthday,” Gia said, “Sixteenth birthday means I should do this sixteen times, or this—” she slapped his buttocks “—sixteen times?”

“First choice,” Harry said.

Gia kept flexing, letting his shaft slip and slide, inside her. She heard his shallow breaths, smelled his sweat, as she felt herself bear down.

“Oh, oh,” Gia said, as she felt the first orgasm as she also felt his. She slid off, and they watched the rest of the white semen pour out of his tip.

“Thank you,” Harry said.

“Magic or not, best to return,” Gia said.

Harry stood up, let the white pendulum remain; followed Gia back toward the stone trees.

“That dragon seemed interested,” Harry said.

“Might’ve been my fault,” Gia said, “We…I meant Hermione and me, we had a little talk with some of the dragons. That one seemend interested, so I promised we’d show it. Maybe its because I’m not a witch, but I could’ve sworn its the dragons staying just to keep the humans under observation.”

“No wonder I fell in love with you,” Harry said, “You and Hagrid would get along splendidly.”

* * *

A jab woke Ginny, waking up on the floor of the bedroom, as Charlie tripped over her on top of her sleeping pad.

“Sorry,” Charlie said.

“It’s early,” Ginny said.

“No, I’m late for work,” Charlie said, “Be back later.”

Charlie strapped on his holster, put in his wand, and left. Ginny, however, got up, left the bedroom. She saw Harry, laying on his back on the sofa, butt that had pushed the armrest down so it was on the edge, legs hanging over the edge, shaking as he slept.

“No…no…” Harry muttered along with the clicking of teeth as his jaw trembled.

Snoring hinted that Ron, Hermione, and Gia were up in the loft. Ginny lifted Harry’s legs as she knelt, resting his knees on her shoulders. Her eyes feasted on the loose lumps of his testicles; two lumps apart resting against his thighs. Her hands reached around his legs, felt the pubic hair, before holding his soft penis upright. Her left fingers held the fleshy sausage, while her right felt up his ridge, and it was wet.

“Watch out…” Harry muttered, his breathng changed.

Pfffpt!

Ginny smelled the foul odor as it left the anus, currently aimed toward her. She leaned forward, her chin pushing against the two soft lumps, sniffed at his penis instead, letting his musk overpower the gas. Her eyes watched the stiffening penis leaving its berth in his thick black pubic hair, jutting upward, the foreskin retracted. She studied the slit, trickling liquid out, realizing the wetness was more than sweat, that Harry was slowly pissing himself in his sleep. Still, she took the erection as an invitation, rested her chin on his balls, and licked the ridge of his penis. Bitterness and saltiness on her tongue, along with wafts of urine drifted into her nostrils, did not deter her, as she was licking Harry Potter’s dick. Her tongue moved to clean the pink glans, circuling the shoulder, sliding over the small surges coming out of his slit, accepting the liquid as the price to pay for the chance to taste the penis she fancied.

SLURP! SLURP!

Ron slid down the ladder.

“Oh,” Ron said, seeing Ginny licking Harry’s hard cock while Hermione climbed down the ladder.

Ginny, though, moved to let Harry’s stiffness enter her mouth. She licked, lapped, the flesh, traced the foreskin. Her hands squeezed on his testicles, she felt a spasm in his shaft.

“What the—?” Harry stammered.

Ginny pulled back as Gia simply poked her head down from the trapdoor; his hard cock swung as Ginny returned to simply watching. White shot upward as Harry’s orgasm started, the snot flew upward as the second salvo started out. Pulse after pulse, Harry’s semen ejaculated, landing on his stomach. His dick was still oozing when Harry’s legs bent back up to his knees, the feet planted themselves onto Ginny’s shoulders, and he pushed her backward. Harry’s feet moved, he stood up.

“STAY AWAY!” Harry barked at Ginny, and went for the door.

Ron followed.

“Harry!” Ron yelled.

Harry stopped, turned around, and glared at Ron, a few steps outside the cabin. Gia watched from the open door.

“You keep your sister away from me!” Harry barked.

“She only gave you head,” Ron said.

“Only?!” Harry said, “Yes, I’m naked, that doesn’t mean I should wake up to her using me as a drinking fountain!”

“If it were Hermione?” Ron asked.

“That’s different,” Harry said, “Think we ought to be heading out!”

“No, not yet,” Ron said as Harry’s Firebolt came from the cabin.

Ginny rushed out with Ron’s Firebolt, handed it over as Harry mounted his. Harry took off, Ron followed. Harry flew over to the small Quidditch pitch, landed, and he glared at Ron.

“You WATCHED!” Harry seethed.

“It’s just Ginny,” Ron said.

“Part of the conspiracy?” Harry said, “The Weasley belief that Ginny is my true love?”

“NO!” Ron snapped.

“Even your Mum thought it,” Harry said.

“Leave her out of this!” Ron retorted.

“No,” Harry said, “She was nice and all, but I was still the _Boy–Who–Lived_! I’m sorry, but I’m having Gia, not Ginny!”

“She’s being friendly!” Ron protested.

“Good morning blowjob?” Harry said, “What next, sex? It’s MY PENIS! Not hers. As she can’t understand that, think it’s best to clear off, leave.”

Ron shook his head.

“Fine, take the fast way back,” Harry said, “Me and Gia—”

“No,” Ron said, “Let Ginny witness you and Gia, do it on the sofa, or the dining room table.”

“We’re not a peep show,” Harry retorted.

“I’m talking about making it clear, to Ginny, that you’re taken,” Ron said, “You’re popping her fantasies, she needs them popped.” Ron’s stomach growled. “I’ll be having breakfast.”

Ron mounted his broom, flew back to the cabin.

“Harry kicked me!” Ginny protested.

“You were touching his dick!” Ron said, “If he were to touch you—”

“He wouldn’t know what hit him,” Ginny said, “But this is Harry Potter we’re talking about, he’s a guy—”

Ron quickly grabbed her tits. hands wrapped around them, nipples bared between the ring of his fingers, squeezing the mounds.

“Yeah? So what?” Ron said to her, “He shouldn’t be molested just because he’s naked!”

“He belongs to _me_ ,” she said.

“What if Mum were here?” Ron asked.

“She’d be helping me with the love potions!” she said, “Wondering whether you two are gay!”

“Am not!” Ron snapped.

“Keep handling them and I’ll tell everybody we’re banging!” Ginny said.

“Don’t you dare—” Ron started.

“Or, rape?” Ginny asked.

Ron let go, Ginny ran out of the cabin. Harry came in a couple of moments later.

“Good,” Harry said, “Normally I love your family—”

“Don’t say it,” Ron warned.

Harry sat on the dining table.

“These,” Harry said, pointing to his balls resting on the table top, “Just because I like them to be loose and free doesn’t mean for her to just—best if we moved on.”

“Gotta admit—” Ron briefly held Harry’s penis “—long and slender, and these—” he ran his fingers across the scrotum “—whereas this—” he ran his fingers into the pubic hair “—is an eyecatcher.”

“Thanks Ron,” Harry said, sarcastically.

“There’s much more to you, of course,” Ron said, “Ginny—she’s fixated there, she thinks she’s entitled to them.”

“I figured that much myself,” Harry said, dryly.

“You need to have sex,” Ron said.

“Gee, thanks,” Harry said, glaring.

“With Gia, who did you think I meant?” Ron said, “Make it…dinner entertainment, be sure my sister gets front row; maybe she’ll understand, you’re already taken.”

“I…that could work,” Harry said.

“Better believe it,” Ron said, “Besides, we needed the break, I mean, with us naked and close, from each other, just a bit. That’s why I wasn’t thinking about us leaving until tomorrow at the earliest, maybe even Sunday.”

“We do have to make it back in time for Hogwarts,” Harry said.

“We got here in…like in four weeks,” Ron said, “Can make it back in three.”

“Alright, we’ll stay,” Harry said, “On one condition.”

“Name it,” Ron said.

“No, not saying, not until later,” Harry said, “I’ll find Gia, she’ll keep me hard.”

Harry got off the table, grabbed a sweet roll, and left the cabin.

Harry walked along the lane, to the small lap swimming pool. Hermione was laying on a lounge chair reading Trevigro’s Guide to Dragon Healing . Harry walked past her to the edge of the pool, spreading his legs a bit; she glanced at the backside to the freely hanging testicles between his legs, as Harry watched Gia, in the pool. She came to the end, began to turn around.

“Ahem,” Harry said, “Gotta tap my—”

Gia reached up, tapped his dick, before turning to a new lap.

“Always showing those off,” Hermione said.

“You like it?” Harry asked.

Hermione scrutinized the loose scrotum for a moment.

“Nice ornamentals,” Gia said, coming to a halt. She reached up, tapped the low hanging balls beneath the stiffening erection.

“See?” Harry replied to Hermione.

“Keep swimming?” Gia asked as her hands wiggled his balls in his heat stretched scrotum, “Need a better view.”

Harry squatted, let Gia keep studying the stiff dick as she retracted his foreskin; she kissed the glans.

“Hard working?” Harry asked.

Gia removed his glasses, pulled his balls forward. He followed, until his feet were on the edge of the pool. She reached, grabbed his shoulders, and pulled his weight; Harry tumbled into the pool as Ginny came into the area.

“Charlie’s back from the other field,” Ginny said, “Was wondering what you were up to.”

Harry, however, used Gia to shield most of himself from Ginny.

“Harry and Gia are being Harry and Gia,” Ron said, accompanying Ginny, “Though this’ll make for a hot date. Coming Hermione?”

Hermione got up.

“Just shrunk things, come so they loosen back up,” Gia said to Harry.

Harry and Gia followed.

“Hold em, find out,” Harry whispered into Gia’s ear.

Gia reached, held his dick as they followed.

* * *

Harry’s loose testicles wanted to swing freely, instead, were hitting Gia’s hands as she held them; his erection was stiff, stayed out of the way, as they both entered Charlie’s cabin late in the evening. Ron was already sitting at the dining table with his balls and loose dick hanging over the edge of the chair, eating some chicken. Hermione was on the sofa. Charlie was sitting to the kitchen side, next to Ginny, eyes on Adam. Adam, though, was leaning against the back of the soft, erection hard, and taking no effort to hide it.

“You nearly missed dinner,” Adam said.

“But we’re cooler now,” Harry said, before softening his voice to Gia only, “As we discussed.”

Gia crawled onto the dining table, on her hands and knees, the tray of chicken beneath them; her butt facing Ginny.

“What?” Ginny asked.

“Some people like to be animals when they eat,” Ron said, nonchalantly.

Harry, though, got up onto his knees, on the table, behind Gia; both balls hanging loosely beneath the butt that’s now Ginny’s main view.

“It’s supposed to be dinner,” Charlie said.

“Best be going—” Ginny started.

“STAY!” Ron barked to Ginny, “You stay put!”

Harry, stayed kneeling there, on the dining table, waiting.

“They’re about to—” Ginny started to protest.

“He’s showing _you_ ,” Ron said, “You’re the President to the Hogwarts Chapter of the Unofficial Harry Potter Fan Club and he’s showing _you_! So watch!”

“Student Co–President!” Ginny snapped at Ron.

“What are you up to?” Charlie asked Ron.

“Yeah, get closer if you need a better view,” Harry said to Ginny, “Can you see?”

“Yes,” Ginny said, sarcastically.

“Here?” Harry asked as he rested the tip of his hard erection between Gia’s buttocks.

“No,” Ginny said.

Harry moved his tip down, held it against the folds.

“Ready?” Harry asked.

Adam and Charlie kept quiet, watched.

“Can’t believe you’re—” Ginny muttered.

“Yeah, ready,” Ron said, “Go ahead.”

Ginny lowered her head, Harry’s balls against her forehead as she watched close enough to make her go cross eyed, watched as Harry’s had shaft sunk itself between the labia, penetrating into Gia; close enough that Ginny could smell Harry’s musk.

“Pay attention, this’ll be the only time you’ll see this,” Harry said to Ginny.

Harry flexed his hips, his testicles swung, bounced between Gia and Ginny, hitting them both as he drilled; his hard erection repeatedly searching, exploring, within Gia. Slipping in and out, his dick moved, until he held it against Gia for a moment. Harry pulled out, his tip was dripping with white.

“You put him up to this, didn’t you?” Charlie asked Ron, while Gia climbed off.

Harry turned around, sat for a moment on the table, facing Ginny.

“You’re a Weasley so I don’t want to curse you,” Harry said, “But realize, _I’m taken_ and it’s _NOT_ you!”

Harry reached for a leg of chicken, got off the table, sat on the sofa.

“That was…cruel,” Hermione said.

“After waking up to Ginny giving me a blowjob?” Harry replied as Gia sat next to him, “Tempered is more like it.”

“That’s what happened this morning?” Charlie asked.

“Yep,” Ron said.

“Ginny…” Charlie started.

Ginny, though, in tears, ran out of the cabin. Charlie ran after her; Adam followed.

“It was cruel,” Hermione said.

“What else am I to do?” Harry asked, “Run away? Forbid her from getting within a hundred feet? I don’t care if she tickles herself as she lusts, but I must be able to trust her not thrusting herself onto me.”

“Ginny needed the lesson,” Ron said.

“Still, it was cruel,” Hermione said, before her eyes turned to Gia, “And you went along with it.”

“Ginny looks at these—” Gia held Harry’s testicles, rubbed his softening penis, “—and she can’t help herself. I do understand that! I mean, these are gorgeous, right?”

Hermione’s eyes watched as Gia’s right hand played.

“If Mum were around…” Ron said, “Well, she nor Dad would’ve stopped Ginny, likely don’t understand why the famous Harry Potter would be sensitive there, but he’s just like the rest of us. And Ginny, she needed the hard lesson, and I’m her brother, it’s an obligation that..sorry Hermione, you’re an only child so you won’t truly understand.”

“Don’t patronize me!” Hermione snapped.

“Ron, got something for you,” Harry said, “Right before bed.”

“What is it?” Ron asked.

“Later,” Harry said, his bottle green eyes staring directly at Ron’s.

“What are you planning?” Hermione asked.

“Nothing,” Harry said, feigning ignorance.

“Must agree with Gia here,” Ron said, “Harry’s got some fine balls, right Hermione?”

“Yeah, sure,” Hermione said, “Harry’s a friend.”

“Though mine are better,” Ron said, standing in front of Hermione, legs slightly apart, holding up his dick so she could get a clear view of his loose testicles; he shook his hips and the balls swung before her.

“Those are nice,” Hermione said, her eyes turned back to the book in her hands.

“This ought to be interesting,” Ron said, letting his penis flop back down. It began to stiffen.

“About to smack you,” Hermione said, “I can go for that, or turn around so I get your butt instead.”

Ron began to turn as Ginny came back into the cabin; she sat the side profile of his growing penis.

“I didn’t need to see _that_ ,” Ginny said.

“Don’t knock it!” Ron snapped, turning back so his hard erection faced Hermione.

Charlie entered.

“I don’t mind you all having sex so long as you keep it discreet and I can plead ignorance!” Charlie said, “Dad’s bound to ask questions!”

“I don’t mind seeing it,” Adam said, “Keep it up!”

“You would say that, wouldn’t you?” Charlie retorted.

“You like it too,” Adam said, “You can’t hide it.”

Both Charlie and Adam were sporting their own hard erections.

“This place is full of _DICKS_!” Ginny exclaimed, angry.

“Um…we do work,” Charlie said, “Best to get some sleep.”

Charlie made for the back bedroom; Adam followed.

“You’re not sleeping with me,” Hermione said to Ron, “And a shower would do you good.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, grabbing a wooden box.

Harry and Ron left the cabin, walked over to the outdoor shower, the moon on the horizon.

“Taking a shower too?” Ron asked.

“Nah,” Harry said, “Gia likes me smelly and sweaty—to a point, then I have to clean.”

“Hermione’s not as admired about me like that,” Ron said.

“We both know her,” Harry said, “Hermione’s…she buries her emotions, so while she does love us, I mean, why else would she run around naked with us?”

“True,” Ron said, stepping into the water of the shower.

“Guess I’ll wash up too,” Harry said, stepping into the shower, next to Ron. Harry used the soap, lathered up Ron’s back before he worked on himself. “It was cruel, doing that to Ginny, I likely couldn’t have done it if you didn’t suggest it.”

“How many times have we covered for you and me?” Ron asked, “It’s the same thing, somebody you love is in the wrong, gotta take care of it before it festers. As Ginny’s brother, I can’t let her stay wrong.”

“Nice argument,” Harry said, cleaning his own butt crack.

“Because you’re right,” Ron said, “Ginny’s had a crush on you—for all of Hogwarts, I think. Mum likely encouraged it, too. I mean, start off friendly, then go deeper.”

“That’s you too?” Harry asked.

Ron turned to Harry, put both hands around Harry, onto the buttocks, and pulled Harry upward the several inches until their faces were level. Ron’s right moved to hold both of the buttocks, while the left held Harry’s testicles.

“Whether you agree with Mum’s motives or not,” Ron said, “She was right, you needed friends, ones that’ll tolerate your ugly sides enough so that you can trust with your butt and your balls.”

Harry squirmed, Ron put him back down.

“Got me there,” Harry said, reaching to hold Ron’s still hard cock.

“Exactly,” Ron said, “What’s this thing you got for me?”

Harry handed Ron a towel, grabbed one for himself. They dried. Harry grabbed the wooden box, opened it, inside were a bunch of taffees. Harry grabbed the blackest of them, handed it to Ron.

“Dare I ask?” Ron asked.

“Fred wanted me to try them out,” Harry said.

“You volunteered?” Ron asked.

“Yeah, you,” Harry said, “Try it.”

Ron laughed for a moment. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “It’s not Polyjuice.”

“I wasn’t thinking that,” Ron said.

“Please, do it,” Harry said.

“If anything goes wrong—” Ron started.

“I think the taffee’s alright,” Harry said.

Ron popped it out of the wax wrapper, into his mouth, chewed it for a bit. As he chewed, his red hair darkened under the moonlight, turning black.

“It’s hair color?” Ron asked.

“Easier than the Muggle way,” Harry said, “Not sure how long it’ll last, but figured you’d be sleeping for most of it.”

“Any side effects?” Ron asked as they started to head back to the cabin.

“Just one that I can think of,” Harry said as they entered the cabin. Soft light inside showed them as both having jet black hair. “I think Hermione wants you to sleep on the sofa.”

“Yeah,” Ron said, laying down on it.

Harry, meanwhile, went up the ladder into the loft.


	9. Return

Ron still felt like sleeping Friday morning, on the hard surface, however, the slobber on his hard erection, the sensation that had woken him, kept him from falling back to sleep. However, he kept his eyes closed, figuring it was Hermione apologizing, as she had done it before. A bit rough as the tongue went to lick his balls; again, Ron didn’t protest, as Hermione had done this before, apologize to him as he slept, sometimes he caught it, other times, Harry and Gia had; Ron accepted it, because Hermione loved him, even if she had difficulty saying it to his face, his balls were willing participants in their ritual.

“Hey Harry,” Ron heard Gia whisper in the distance.

Ron’s hands could feel the edges of the coffee table beneath him, he figured Hermione felt the sofa was too comfortable for an apology, or needed his testicles to be easier to lean into; still, his legs were mostly over the edge, feet resting with his heels on the short fiber rug of the living room. A couple of minutes later, the tongue stopped.

“Done?” Ron muttered.

Instead, Ron felt the parting of flesh, as the exposed glans on his hard shaft lead the charge, plunging inward. Apology sex, Ron figured, he’d willingly take that. Ron cracked his eyes, a bit, the back seemed a tad lighter than he was expecting Hermione’s skin to be, as they had been developing good tans on the trip. Hips flexed, Ron’s erection slipped in and out of the vulva, that felt wrong. Ron glanced upward, saw the blond hair of the girl.

“Gia?” Ron asked as he felt the pressure build up, the urges and the tremors go through him.

“GINNY!” Charlie shouted.

Ron saw a taffee wrapper, a blond one, nearby as the pressure released. He suddenly understood, as Ron still had the jet black hair, the black pubic, and the girl had blond hair. It wasn’t Gia, but instead, his sister, Ginny, who was quickly scrambling off of Ron.

“Wha—?!” Ron exclaimed, cut off as his dick refused to cede its role as star of the morning show. Everybody watched as the first salvo soared upward, his semen sailed up before falling back down, onto the stomach, while subsequent jets surged upward, as he orgasmed, ejaculating.

“You’re not—” Ginny started, finger pointed at Ron.

“I’m Harry,” Harry said, jumping down from the loft.

“Excuse me?” Charlie asked as Harry turned toward him.

“Best we be leaving now,” Harry said, extending a hand, “Thank you for your hospitality, it was appreciated.” Harry turned his head up the ladder. “Hermione, Gia, come, we’re taking off!”

“You’re going?” Ginny said, as Hermione came down the ladder, “Use Floo Powder—”

“No,” Ron said, as Hermione came down, “You fail to understand.”

“As to you,” Harry said, approaching Ginny, “I shouldn’t have to plan on you raping me!”

Ginny cried as Harry went for the door.

“Next time, let Colin die his hair and use him,” Harry stated as he went out.

“You knew that’d happen?!” Ron stammered, following Harry.

“Yep,” Harry said, heading up the lane. Gia and Hermione following. “Nice thing about being naked, nothing to pack!”

“You set the siblings up?” Hermione asked.

“Like Ron said, we needed to teach Ginny a lesson,” Harry said.

“You could’ve explained it!” Ron snapped.

They left the dragon reservation, Harry pulled out his Firebolt.

“Can’t be serious!” Hermione said.

“SEP,” Harry said, mounting it, “It’s a long walk to the station.”

Gia climbed on, behind Harry, wrapped her arms around him.

“Unless you want to travel separately,” Harry said.

“We’re coming,” Ron said, pulling out his Firebolt.

Hermione got on behind Ron. They cast their SEP, and flew upward; hugging the trees as they went over the snow capped ridge. They flew back down the other side, along the forest.

* * *

They made it onto the train. Hermione and Gia went for a different carriage. Harry and Ron took a four seater, faced each other, both with jet black hair.

“Look, I’m sorry it had to come to that,” Harry said.

Harry took his penis, aimed it upward. Both him and Ron watched the yellow jet form, as Harry peed upward, it arched over, and soaked into the carpet between them.

“We could’ve done something else—” Ron said.

“It proved the point,” Harry said, “She’s not really into me, just the legend.”

“You let my sister have sex with me!” Ron said.

“You were awake by then,” Harry said, “Thought you wanted to.”

“I thought it was Hermione until I opened my eyes,” Ron said.

“Ginny is _not_ Hermione,” Harry said.

“I know!” Ron snapped.

Harry’s feet reached over, he wiggled his butt until his toes could reach, and his toes began to knead into Ron’s scrotum, calming Ron.

“Sorry about that,” Harry said, “I figured she wasn’t going to stop until she had sex, and I don’t want to give it to her—she’s trying to steal it, and your Mum’d endorse it!”

“Leave Mum out of this,” Ron said.

“I like them being nice and all,” Harry said, “Big step to go from that to this…guess I’m one to talk.”

Ron glanced to where Harry was looking; Harry’s toes massaging into Ron’s hard erection.

“By the way, this is also being friendly,” Ron said.

“I’m glad I found Gia,” Harry said, “I didn’t want us fighting over Hermione.”

“Oh, she’s the backup?” Ron asked.

“Your sister was fooled by hair coloring,” Harry said, “She’s not in love with me, and that matters, it matters to me. Sure, I’d rescue, be nice, and the like, but in the end, would it be love? No. Hermione—yes, it’d be love, but it’d leave you as a third wheel. If we fought and you won, it’d still be bad to us, and I’d lose you. I want to keep you as a friend.”

“You certainly seem like friends,” Hermione said, returning to them, Gia following. Their eyes at Harry’s feet, on Ron’s thighs, kneading into his stomach, while the heels were into the black pubic hair.

“Just needed a footrest,” Harry said, “Sit.”

Hermione sat next to Harry, while Gia sat next to Ron.

“What are the travel plans?” Hermione asked.

“Dunno,” Harry said, “Wherever this train goes.”

“It’s headed east, _away_ from England,” Hermione said, “It’s going to Crimea.”

“Where’s that?” Ron asked.

“Ukraine,” Gia said.

“Still in Europe?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said.

“Fine, we’ll go there, and be sure to travel west afterwards,” Harry said.

“Better before we end up in Tokyo,” Hermione said.

“That’s an island,” Gia said.

“Knowing Harry, he’d find a way,” Hermione said.

“Let’s not stress over this,” Harry said, “This’s supposed to be relaxing and fun!”

* * *

It was still nighttime, very early in the morning before the sun even considered to rise, when both Harry and Ron stumbled out of the train station on the southeast Crimean peninsula1, tumbled over the railing into the green patch in front of the station; both fell to sleep, neither worried about Ron’s fingers curled about Harry’s penis.

“They—” Hermione started.

“Let them sleep,” Gia said, yawning, “Might join them.”

“Hostel,” Hermione said, “Quite—friendly too!”

“Then you fail to understand,” Gia said.

“I’m—” Hermione started.

“You’re intelligent, Gia said, sitting down at a bench, “You’re smarter than me, so maybe you’re just a bit more suspicious. Harry simply wants to be open, to be intimate, with me, with you, and with Ron; he wants us all to be good friends, that’s all there is to it. He wants to be able to rest his balls on your hand, and know that nothing bad will happen to them, even while you’re holding a knife in the other.”

Hermione snorted.

“Harry is _not_ looking at us as two couples,” Gia said, “He’s looking at us as a foursome. He wants me, he wants you, and he wants Ron; I think he’s got enough room in his heart for all of us, and I think Ron’s got the same. Don’t you agree?”

“I suppose,” Hermione said, “I wasn’t counting on them—”

“They’d remind us that we started it,” Gia said, “Maybe we did start this little misadventure for the wrong reason, even making them blow each other; Harry’s holding our feet to the fire, making sure we get the right reason from it. Maybe its just me being his girlfriend, to try to figure Harry out, but it’s also my job to figure him out, and there’s not much that you need to know except that he’s an orphan seeking a loving family. We _are_ his loving family, and you’re a member of that.”

“Glad you’ve given this a thought,” Hermione said.

“I figure you’ll have a lot to worry about,” Gia said, “I can worry about Harry. He’s craving us, and I intend to let him have it. I don’t plan to worry if he has a need to bang you, or, even Ron there, because he wants it open, he wants the trust, to know that we all can handle it.”

“He’s really trusting,” Hermione said.

“Is is faith in you well placed or misplaced?” Gia said, “Only you can answer that. Though, Ron’s confident in you, he seems to be giving Harry a lot of thought too.”

“Can only wonder why,” Hermione said, glancing over at Ron aiming Harry’s peeing penis, both still sleeping.

“They’ll both deny it,” Gia said, “They love each other too, but we’ll let them continue to deny it, because otherwise, it wouldn’t be them.”

* * *

“So, what is there to do in—K…” Ron started as they walked.

“Advertisement in the stations said a music festival,” Hermione said, “Koktebel has one, apparently.”

They walked along the road, headed toward the beach to the Black Sea. Rumbling, loud, and Jazz music came to their ears.

“Culture, at last,” Gia said.

“What?” Ron asked.

“You’re nice to hang around,” Gia said, “Something a bit more is desired.”

“Festivals mean people,” Ron said, “Harry, we’re talking people…”

They crested the small hill, the sand and rock covered shore below; pinkness as the beach had a number of people.

“A naked music festival?” Hermione said, “Well, you ought to feel at home.”

Suddenly self–conscious, both Harry’s and Ron’s dicks immediately began to stiffen, they were both hard by the time they mixed into the crowd.

“Keep them up!” Gia said to both Ron and Harry.

Quickly, Harry and Ron got recruited into a small dance, holding hands, walking around in a circle. And though both erections were firm, jutting outward, and not hidden; few seemed to stare, instead, the clapping kept Ron and Harry moving with the group. Harry felt his bladder filling up, demanding to release, though the tempo and the foreign language helped keep his muscles tight. The music came to an end, they ended up in an outward facing line to see the spectators. They started to release hands when they stopped, to pay attention to Harry’s hard erection as he couldn’t resist the pressure. Yielding to the urge, Harry began to pee, his stream flowing, and clapping came to this.

“Harry,” Ron whispered.

Harry, though, kept urinating, the cheers and applause kept up, until he finished.

“Well, no need to ask about a loo stop for you,” Hermione said.

“Harry, she and I’ll—” Ron started.

“No need to ask what’s on your minds,” Hermione said.

“Hermione!” Harry grabbed her shoulders, his eyes focused on her eyes. “This festival obviously celebrating the beauty of the human body, and they’re right! You are beautiful, inside and out. It’s more than words, I mean it, mind?” Harry tapped his hard dick against her stomach.

“I’m cool with it,” Ron said.

“Me too,” Gia said.

“Here?” Hermione asked.

“Right here,” Harry said, “Can I?”

“Guess so—sure,” Hermione said, “As long as you…”

She glanced down, the glimmer of the magic condom sheathed Harry’s hard cock as he pushed inward. Harry worked at it for a couple of moments, not bothering about the crowd watching, and he pulled out a dick dripping with white.

“Meet you at—where?” Harry asked.

“There was a Mexican restaurant two blocks that way,” Hermione said pointing, “There, in…how long?”

“Evening,” Ron said.

Ron and Hermione walked south, while Harry and Gia went north.

“Harry just…” Hermione started.

“He loves you and thought you needed it,” Ron said.

“You’re not having problems?” Hermione asked.

Ron found a picnic table outside a small cafe, pulled out his journal, and sat down.

“I do find it a bit tough,” Ron said, “But as he said before Paris, sometimes we just have to jump and trust.”

Ron dipped his quill, began to write in it.

“Notes, again?” Hermione asked.

“I didn’t have a chance away from him yesterday, now, did I?” Ron said, “And waking up to Ginny…that’s important to note.”

“That didn’t sit well with you, either?” Hermione asked.

“She’s my sister!” Ron said, “Of course not!”

“You and Gia both are studying Harry,” Hermione said, “Anything I can help with?”

“Be yourself with an open mind, that’s all,” Ron said, “I mean, between Gia and me, we can figure Harry out. For the rest of everything, we need you.”

“And you watched as he—not perfect, he needs some help,” Hermione said.

“So, he’s got potential?” Ron asked.

“Yes,” Hermione replied.

“I agree,” Ron said, “Might’ve been a bit slow, but he also sees you as beautiful, just like I do.”

“Oh, trying to fuck?” Hermione asked.

“Of course,” Ron said, “It’s well shown that fucking improves relationships.”

“Oh,” Hermione said, her eyebrows arched upward.

“Lemme finish this entry and we’ll go back,” Ron said, “Find a dance, a show, that lets them watch us fuck, maybe as the finale.”

“Sex must be the only thing you boys think about,” Hermione said.

Ron stood, held her.

“You are beautiful, being naked captures it even better,” Ron said, “You saw them back there, old folks, and we’re the young folks. I’m not ashamed to say that I love you, to show that I love you, and for us to celebrate that. They’ll see how beautiful our love is, and I’m fine with that.”

“Trying to be romantic?” Hermione asked.

“Of course, with you,” Ron said, smiling, “Only a few more moments and we’ll go back.”

* * *

They spent the day at the music festival. It was toward the end when Ron got his chance. They got involved into a dance, that as best as Ron could figure out, set to the ethnic music, was a ballad over a romance. Quickly, only Ron and Hermione were left standing. Cheers, eager eyes, claps, including Harry’s applause, joined in as Hermione bent over. Standing right behind her, Ron drove his erection into Hermione, her butt came to rest against his groin while his shaft was buried into her. Applause met their ears, and a clap started up.

Clap

Ron pulled mostly out.

Clap!

Ron pushed in. He kept pushing and pulling, drilling in step with the clap, until he felt the release. He pulled out, cheers greeted his ejaculating hard penis.

“An alternate ending,” Hermione said.

“Huh?” Ron asked.

“You really should learn a second language,” Hermione said, as they bowed to accept the end.

“What do you mean?” Ron said, joining the crowd “I thought we were supposed to—”

“You were supposed to kill her,” Gia said.

“What?” Ron stammered.

“Yeah,” Harry said as they left the beach. They approached a cafe, sat at an open table.

“I don’t understand,” Ron said.

“As it was explained to us,” Harry said, “It’s a tragedy, she betrayed you, and you were supposed to kill her in a fit of murderous rage. Instead, you made up, nobody seemed disappointed, so don’t worry.”

“Oh,” Ron said, “Well, I still love you Hermione, I couldn’t pretend to kill you.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said.

“Still, I like having the audience,” Harry said.

“Makes up for any shortcomings,” Gia said.

“You’re addicted,” Hermione said.

“What shortcomings?” Harry asked.

“You’re better,” Gia said, “Not perfect—don’t worry, we’ll help you.” She rubbed his penis as the waiter came to take their order.

* * *

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Gia left Kotebel; visited Kiev, Warsaw, Berlin before finding themselves going across the Vltava on the pedestrian–only St. Charles bridge in Prague, walking rather slowly as as Ron put his toes into every crack between the paver stones. Ron’s red hair was freshly trimmed, both on the head, and tidied edges on his pubic hair; his nipples firm, but the breeze gave him goosebumps on his skin while his genitals still hung loose.

“Smells good,” Gia said, sniffing the air for the roasted nuts.

Harry stopped at the vendor, bought two bags; handed one to Ron, while he shared the other with Gia.

“Money, money, money,” Ron muttered.

“Will you stop that?” Hermione asked.

“But it’s—” Ron started.

“Look down,” Hermione commanded.

Ron glanced downward, though he paused to piss, letting the yellow stream hit the bricks; he walked carefully to avoid his freshly watered spots.

“I mean—nobody is even looking for your wallet,” Hermione said, “They see your gorgeous dick and they aren’t measuring it in Galleons.”

“You called it gorgeous—?” Ron started.

“HARRY!” Hermione bellowed.

Harry turned around and faced them. Ron stopped and stood still.

“Don’t you think Ron’s todger is gorgeous?” Hermione asked.

“You’re asking me—?” Harry asked.

“Don’t tell me you can’t see his stuff,” Hermione stated.

Harry’s eyes flickered between the two faces, Ron who seemed keen on the opinion and Hermione who wanted him to reassure Ron. Harry’s eyes drifted down to what he had been seeing for ages, accidental glances for years to the loss of inhibition for the past month, but being called to judge upon the friend’s penis was a different matter, suddenly moving the ordinary back into awkward. Harry studied the thick, deeply red, pubic hair, trimmed to stay above the crotch, keeping the snake cozy over the loose balls. Harry surveyed the testicles, stretching the scrotum as low as it could in the warm air. Harry studied the partially excited penis, as Ron tried to control the swelling; it thicker than Harry’s, but a bit shorter, with the foreskin that couldn’t quite cover the glans had already retracted to let the full softness soak in the sunshine. Harry’s eyes were drawn to the slit, at the tip of the stiffening penis, where a bit of clear dew moistened as it slipped out as Harry kept thinking about his answer. Harry watched Ron’s penis, where it, despite Ron’s will, ratcheted upward to present itself, hard and ready for use.

“If Ron weren’t a friend,” Harry said, “I’d feel…erm…inadequate.”

Ron grinned.

Gia gave Harry a kiss to the cheek, his own shaft took the bait, grew into another hard erection, jutting outward, and casting its shadow onto the bridge deck.

“See?” Hermione said to Ron as they returned to walking.

* * *

They continued traveling, visiting Nurnberg, Munich, and Stuggard before they traveled along the Rhine, through Colonge and Düsseldorf, and onward.

It was Wednesday, the twenty first when the cruise boat came to halt along the terminal in Amsterdam.

“Good,” Hermione said, “Got some ideas of what to do.”

“So do the boys,” Gia said, as they left the boat.

“Are you thinking—?” Hermione started to as Harry and Ron.

“What?” Harry asked.

“It’s a big city,” Gia said as they entered the terminal building, “Lots to do.”

“Here,” Hermione said, grabbing a visitor map from the counter, “Van Gogh Museum , and the Anne Frank House .”

“Who?” Ron asked.

“Some girl from the second world war,” Harry said.

“She wasn’t just _some_ girl!” Hermione snapped.

“Not important to your kind, I suppose,” Gia said.

“Kinda goes on today,” Hermione said.

They walked on, into the city, coming first to the Sex Museum .

“We’ll save that for later,” Hermione said, “Anne Frank House is one that’s best to get to early.”

They kept walking; Hermione kept steering them away from the more interesting museums, toward the one for Rembrandt, the Cheese Museum, and the Pipe Museum exploring the history of smoking; until they were finally eating dinner at a cafe.

“We’re going to explore,” Harry said, standing, “Should we find the youth hostel first, or do you want to come with us?”

“I’ll come with you,” Gia said, before glancing at Hermione, “Well somebody’s got to keep them out of trouble.”

“Hermione?” Ron asked.

Harry settled the check, and they went into the darkening evening. Still naked, their dicks swung with their walk, the pubic hair standing out. They walked along, until they came to a tight alley way, along with scantily clad women in the windows. A couple of young ones leaning against a doorway, came over, smiled and waved at the four to get their attention.

“Hi,” Harry said.

“We couldn’t but help notice you checking us out,” the first girl said, with her silky brown hair, low cut white top and lace mesh panties. “It’s not often we can check out the customers first.” She made no secret, the eyes surveyed Harry and Ron, their pubic hair on display.

“They’re just looking,” Hermione said.

“A couple?” the girl asked.

“She’s my girlfriend,” Ron said.

“Aw, a double date,” the second girl, with a red strap to hide the nipples, and a bit of fabric to cover her pussy, “I get it. You need—company?”

“We can spice up the evening,” the first girl said, “You?” Her eyes fell on Gia.

“I…” Gia stuttered.

“We’re about to get a room ourselves,” Harry said, “You know…”

“It’s our business,” the first girl said, “What’s your favorite position?”

“Um…you just do it,” Ron said.

“How old are you?” the second girl asked.

“Old enough,” Harry said.

“So, he’s good in bed?” the first girl asked Hermione.

Hermione shook her head.

“So what you need is a consultation,” the second girl said, “Not the usual request, but a little tuition, and we’ll help you put the spunk back into the bedroom, does that sound enticing?”

“Yes,” Gia said, “He’s become confident, of course, but a bit of variety would be nice.”

“What?” Hermione asked.

“Can you say the same?” Gia asked Hermione.

“Yeah,” Ron said, “Lets get help.”

“Are you mad?” Hermione asked.

“It’s here or a hotel,” Harry said, “A bit of guidance—sure.”

Ron gently held Hermione from behind, leaned forward.

“Stay out here so I have to suffer with them by myself,” Ron asked, “Or, join in the fun?”

“Boys!” Hermione said, “Yes!”

Harry handed over a bank note, they went into the building. Both Harry and Ron were sporting hard erections before they crossed in, girls smiling across the hall as they entered, turned into the first room. A large heart shaped bed, with red sheets, was in the middle, the fragrence of an over applied flower air freshner hung in the air, all bathed in red light.

“Magic begins tonight,” the first girl said, “Call me Kendra, if you need a name. She’s Levina.”

“We can definitely work with this,” Levina said, surveying both Harry and Ron.

“Yes,” Kendra said, her silky brown hair over her shoulders, her fingers held Ron’s thick hard cock, the foreskin coming up short so the slit was still visible. “Do you have…protection?”

“Don’t need it,” Ron said.

“You sure about that?” Kendra asked Hermione.

“We’ve got our own way,” Hermione said.

“Your child support,” Kendra said Ron, “We’ve got some, if you change your mind; don’t worry, it’ll fit.” Kendra caressed Ron’s hard erection. “Okay, fuck her.”

Ron grabbed Hermione, his hands held her breasts, for a moment, before lowering her onto her back on the bed, he came down on top.

“Are you trying to put her to sleep?” Kendra said, “A guy does that to me, sure it’s quick money, but doesn’t mean I get anything else out of it. Here.”

Meanwhile, Levina watched as Harry began to kiss Gia, she held his hard dick. She laid on the bed, while Harry came toward the back, aiming his hard cock for the vulva.

“A second position,” Levina said, “Here, try it differently.”

“What did you have in mind?” Harry asked, stopping.

“You’re going right for the end,” Levina said, “Good in a pinch, perhaps while sneaking something in at a family mini golf course, for instance. But here, you’ve got all night, you don’t have to do it in under a minute. Lets draw it out, make it clear you love her.”

They spent an hour before they heard the voice.

“I paid, I expect satisfaction,” said the eriely familiar greasy voice.

Ron rolled Hermione onto the floor; same with Harry taking Gia onto the shag carpet. Billowing black robes, Professor Snape was now in the small hallway, glaring at an older woman. Ron and Harry cast their SEP, just before Snape turned his head to look inward to their room, for the door had not been closed.

“As I told you on your last visit,” the madam said, “Unless you can provide a medical certificate attesting that your condition has been cleared, and submit to us examining for ourselves, you cannot be served here.”

“I _paid_ ,” Snape emphasized.

“Do you have a receipt?” the madam asked.

“I will…” Snape glanced into the room, again, his eyes seemed to dwell on Harry before he returned his gaze to the madam. “I will be filing a complaint.”

“You’re not the first!” the madam exclaimed as Snape turned around, left.

Harry and Ron dropped the spell.

“You know him?” Kendra asked.

“Teacher at our school,” Harry said.

“School? You’re students?” Levina asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said.

“We’re sixteen!” Ron protested.

“I’m not,” Hermione replied.2

“Out!” Kendra said, “Before you get our license revoked!”

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Gia left.

“Great, that solved nothing!” Ron exclaimed, his dick still hard.

“Dunno,” Harry said, jumping up to put his arms around Gia’s neck, his legs wrapping around her.

Gia’s hands held Harry’s buttocks, he kissed her. She pulled on his hips, his hard cock slipped in, pushed in between the shaved folds of skin; she pulled until it was fully immersed inside her, and they kept kissing.

“Professor Snape’s around here, somewhere,” Hermione said.

“Keep an eye out for him,” Harry said, before his tongue returned to Gia’s mouth.

Gia slowly lowered Harry’s butt, slipping his shaft outward. She pulled on his butt, his hard cock moved back inward.

“We need to find the hostel,” Hermione said.

“Lead the way,” Ron said, “They’ll follow, though I don’t think they need the room.”

“Of course not!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Relax, will you?” Ron said, “I don’t care if it’s a room or not, but if you want a room, lets find a room.”

“He doesn’t care,” Hermione said, her eyes focused on the swaying balls in the loose scrotum beneath Harry’s butt, testicles that caught smiles from people walking by.

“Nope,” Ron said, wrapping his right arm around Hermione, his hand massaged into her breast, “No reason to care, let’s find this room.”

Harry gasped slightly, relaxed, and smiled. Gia let the penis slip out, heaved a bit, to carry Harry over her shoulder. Harry was now snoring, his penis dribbling the last of his semen onto her breast.

“A bed would be good,” Gia said.

They went for the first hotel advertising _vacancy_ , entered.

“Need his card,” Ron said.

“Harry needs to focus—” Hermione started.

“No,” Gia said, “I just don’t want to let him go. Ron, try it.”

Ron’s fingers slipped past the hairs lining the anus, into the sphincter, pulled out the card of plastic; handed it over to the cashier.

“He’ll sign in the morning,” Ron said.

Hermione took the key, they went into the lift. Two floors up, they went for the room.

“You shouldn’t have been able to do that,” Hermione said, “If Harry had asked—wait—” her eyes fell on the ring on Gia’s finger after she put Harry onto the bed “—of course, I don’t think he knew exactly what he gave you.”

“May as well put what you learned into practice,” Gia said, laying on the bed, “Come on, we certainly don’t mind sharing the bed.”

“It’s not like a switch,” Hermione said.

“Shouldn’t have to, should always be on,” Ron said, grinning.

“You—” Hermione started, “Bit crowded without doing it on Harry.”

“Why not?” Gia said, “Here, lay down, on him.”

Hermione went with Gia’s advice, sat on Harry’s stomach, laid back to let Harry’s soft penis rest against her back, legs bent so the feet were against Harry’s ribs. Ron knealt, his testicles rested on Harry’s chest, as he began to massage into Hermione’s carpet.

“Harry’s starting to pee,” Hermione said.

“Let him,” Ron said, moving himself forward, his balls dragging.

Harry calmed down a bit, the shivers stopped.

“That…he stopped, it’s weird,” Hermione said.

“It’s Harry, of course it’s weird,” Ron said, threading his hard cock into Hermione.

Ron leaned forward, his weight pushing his erection between himself and Harry, as he flexed it inward, letting his ridge slide across Harry’s stomach as it went into Hermione. Ron drilled, letting Harry’s stomach get the feel of the balls, the cock sliding, as Ron kept working on Hermione. Ron pulled out, let the orgasm get the hot semen onto the three of them, before pulling off.

“Harry’s only request will be that you do that again when he’s awake,” Gia said, “It makes him happy to see you two being happy together.”

“I’m tired too,” Ron said.

“It’s late,” Hermione said, squirming inward, between Harry and Gia. Ron curled into the mix, laid on his side, head on Gia’s stomach, shoulder against the shaved crotch, while his body and legs went underneath Gia’s right leg, all of Hermione’s and Harry’s legs. Gia pulled the covers over them, sealing Ron into darkness.

* * *

It was Friday, the twenty third, when they boarded the ferry in Rotterdam. Ron sat on the bench on the observation deck; Gia and Hermione were standing over the edge, watching the dock moving away as they headed toward Harwich; they moved around the deck, out of sight. Harry, though, leaned back against the railing, glanced at Ron’s face, recognized the green tinge forming.

“What a trip,” Harry said.

“Yeah,” Ron said.

“Glad we didn’t run into Snape again,” Harry said.

“Poor use of tuition money,” Ron said.

“Tuition?” Harry asked as the ferry passed into the North Sea.

“Yes,” Ron said, “Hogwarts charges. Didn’t … that’s right, you wouldn’t see a bill.”

“I don’t get a bill,” Harry asked, “why?”

Ron’s ears tried to twinge pink, while the face had a green look to it.

“It was in that article, about you going,” Ron said, “Think it was that inheritance…” His voice trailed off.

“Ron,” Harry exclaimed, “It’s fucking annoying! You go mad every time I handle money!”

“How’d you like it?” Ron spouted, “To be reminded you’re poor? At every activity being told we can’t afford it’?”

Harry sat down next to Ron, joining Ron’s gaze of their feet.

“Ron,” Harry said quietly and slowly, in a calming manner, “I’ve always known it since I met you, your family’s finances aren’t the greatest. Family pride keeps you from accepting charity as you like earning your keep, that I respect and admire. You know me well enough to realize I do not base friendships on pocketbooks. You have been a good friend in all the ways that count, don’t let gold divide us. Alright?”

“Yeah,” Ron said, “It still bugs me.”

“Did you have fun, this trip?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Ron said.

“You’ll be richer than Malfoy will ever be,” Harry said, “My friends matter to me.”

“Thank you,” Ron said.

Harry reached over, held Ron’s soft todger, gently letting it lay in the curled fingers; it stiffened.

“Thank you for being a friend,” Harry said, “Guess that’s the point of the trip, to enjoy our company.”

“You like my todger,” Ron said, as Harry’s hand stroked the shaft.

“It’s a friend too,” Harry said, “Should be no shame there, that we’re friends. It may not be at the top of my bucket list, but I should be able to handle it without a problem.”

“Keep that up and you’ll…” Ron paused as his hard cock began to spasm, let out the hot white liquid, it poured over Harry’s fingers. “Faster than Hermione.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, holding his fingers up so they both could inspect the sticky trail across them, “Better than Galleons.”

“You’re kidding,” Ron stated.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “Still, I don’t mind, because you’re happier.” Harry wiped his fingers against Ron’s stomach.

“Now I suppose you want me to toss you off?” Ron asked.

“Nah,” Harry said, “We’re not in England yet, are we?”

“Don’t think so,” Ron said.

“Good,” Harry said, moving back up.

He pushed upward on the rail, facing backward, threaded his feet on the lower bars while his ass hung freely over the edge.

Pfffpt!

Harry cringed a bit, until the first round of sludge started to creep out of his anus.

“No point in being open,” Ron said, sarcastically.

“It’s good for us, for the dangers of the new year,” Harry said.

“You’re expecting trouble,” Ron stated.

“When has Voldemort left us alone?” Harry asked, the foot long brown turd curling from his butt.

“Good point,” Ron said.

“It’s simply good for us,” Harry said as the extra three inches caused his dropping to leave, fall toward the water below.

* * *

It was approaching midnight Saturday evening when the four teenagers approached the single detached home of the two dentists. Hermione took the key from underneath the pot, used it to turn the lock; they entered. Linda Granger was sitting in the living room, watching.

“Mum?!” Hermione spat.

“My daughter is coming home from a big trip,” Linda said.

“Fantastic,” Gia exclaimed, eyes wide, and trying to draw the attention away from Hermione, “Dragons! We saw dragons!”

Linda’s eyes steadied on the four naked teenagers, including Hermione, with well tanned skin lacking any lines, no hints at the garments they should have worn. Her daughter held no modesty, freely showing the gifts of beauty that had been bestowed, with no concept of keeping limited viewing hours; instead, Ron was tapping his soft dick against Hermione’s hip.

“You did?” Linda said, “That must be exciting.”

“I’ll call my Dad,” Ron said, headed for the fireplace.

Linda saw Ron held no modesty either; instead, Ron’s legs were partially spread, spending no effort to clench the buttocks together. Hermione’s eyes kept fleeting, toward the tight cluster of red anal hairs, below which, his testicles freely hung; his thighs did twitch and clench as he kept himself balanced.

“Now,” Linda said, sitting on the arm of the sofa, trying to draw Hermione away from Ron, “Tell me all about it.”

“Where’s Dad?” Hermione asked.

“Sleeping—don’t change the subject,” Linda said, “How was it?”

“It was great,” Ron said, crossing back over, “Everything happened!”

Linda could easily guess the meaning, as Hermione’s hand sought reassurance by holding Ron’s genitals.

“No it did not—” Hermione protested.

“Everything?” Linda asked.

“Mother!” Hermione protested.

“I’ll tell,” Ron said, now on the receiving end of Hermione’s tickling, “I’ll tell everything.”

Linda studied the interaction between the two. Ron kept twisting and turning, his hard erection swung about, unconcerned to the exposure, as Hermione kept tickling him. Ron laughed.

“It can wait for the morning,” Linda said, standing, “Sleep tight.”

Linda walked for the kitchen, turned up to use the stairs.

“Nice try,” Gia said, as Harry tried to pull her toward the back, “Big day tomorrow.”

“In the hot tub—” Harry started.

“You promised!” Gia said, pulling him back.

“I lied,” Harry said, tugging back.

Hermione shoved Harry toward gia.

“Conspiracy,” Harry complained.

Ron crashed onto the sofa, watched Gia and Harry make it to the staircase. Hermione grabbed a banana, came back as Harry and Gia vanished along the upper corridor toward their room.

“Grumpy, isn’t he?” Hermione said.

“Had the right idea—” Ron started.

Slap!

Ron rubbed his cheek, his eyes still up at Hermione standing near his head.

“It’s not like it’s a big deal or—” Hermione said.

“Her father’s not a big deal?” Ron said, sarcastically.

“It’s just—” Hermione started.

“Diciest place for a guy to be,” Ron said.

“Oh Dad—” Hermione softly called out.

“Cut it,” Ron said.

“You’re excited,” Hermione said, her eyes on the hard erection jutting upward.

“Let’s play,” Ron suggested.

“No,” Hermione said.

“Can you at least wait so I can toss?” Ron asked, putting his left hand to his hard cock.

“Let’s see it then,” Hermione said, with a fake enthusiasm in her voice.

Ron leaned his head back, studied her standing right next to it, and moved the hand. He studied the nipples, framing the face as she was watching him. Her nipples, her small breasts, had become so familiar, tanned with no lines; each one, with its curves, attached to her chest. Below the belly button, and his eyes also feasted on the carpet, between the legs. Within the forest, the hard point, the peak, her clitoris, stood out, championing the divided valley below. Blackness cloaked the room in between her labia, the pocket his penis liked to hang out, the place where his dick liked to do what it was about to do.

“You’re beautiful,” Ron said, feeling the spasm started.

Hermione kept watch as Ron’s first salvo launched, it all came back down to his stomach and onto his fluffy golden rod red pubic hair.

“You just like doing that,” Hermione said.

“Wrong, I love it,” Ron said, “Here.”

Ron’s fingers reached up, his left teased the clitoris, while he massaged his right inward.

“Thought you were done,” Hermione said.

“Nah, why shouldn’t you get some fun too?” Ron asked.

Hermione leaned forward, rested her knees against the edge, while Ron worked inward, his fingers massaged the walls inside of her. She sighed, breathed deeply, fixated on Ron’s softening cum laden penis.

“You do learn,” Hermione said.

With Ron’s gentle pull to her hips, she fell forward, onto Ron.

“Night—” Ron started.

“What about my Dad—living room’s rather obvious,” Hermione said.

“Oh,” Ron said, “Your bedroom?”

Hermione rolled off; Ron stood, and they went for the stairs.

* * *

1 This is Ukraine in 1996.  
2 This story was started before JKR made the relative age of Hermione known, so I made her younger.  



	10. Smash

Harry held his head under the water pouring down that Sunday morning; he was standing in the bathtub, underneath the shower head, as he started to become wet. Water seeped into his jet black hair, went over his face, and down the smooth skin.

“Harry! Harry!” came the call, Gia’s voice, from below, a voice that echoed upward, through the crack of the partially open door, “He’s HERE!”

Harry didn’t want to reply, instead, he took the shampoo and worked it into his scalp; he’d rather spend the day cleaning himself than to do what had been asked of him. He worked the excess foam into his armpits, before working a bit more into his pubic hair. His hand worked it into the strands, worked the fibers on his scrotum when he felt the urge. He aimed his penis, began to piss the long shot between the bathtub and the toilet, the jet missed to start covering the linoleum in yellow.

“Good to see you…” Kevin Prescott started as he came into the bathroom.

Harry stood there, for the moment, displaying every detail above the knees, as the curtain hadn’t been drawn. Kevin took another moment to collect the thoughts, the debate was obvious to Harry, whether to be courteous and wait outside, or to latch onto the awkwardness of it. Harry was, obviously, accustomed to streaking, but this was Gia’s father, and right now, his pissing penis was the center of attention, both watching as tapered off. Harry let go of his penis, it flopped back down.

“He seems sober,” Gia said to Harry, trying to break the tension.

Harry studied the thin frame of the man, for a moment, seeing the mouth that was a dentist’s new boat dream as the teeth were well stained and chipped in dire need of repair or replacement. Butterflies grew fast and furious within him, not even Gia’s smooth breasts calmed him.

“I want to see your guardians, today,” Kevin said.

“Not the Dursleys!” Harry protested, “They’d rather not be bothered!”

“You are dating _my_ daughter,” Kevin said, “You can either come along, or worry about what they might say without you there.”

“They’re out for the day—” Harry grumbled.

“Have you called?” Kevin said, “Likely not. Gia.”

“They’ll be pissed,” Harry said as Gia went for the bedroom across the hall.

As Gia dialed, Harry returned to washing himself, despite Kevin being there, lathering and rinsing as quickly as he could.

“Mr. Dursley?” Gia asked into the phone, “My troop is selling cookies, interested? … Two pounds fifty per box. … Understood, side door, ten boxes. … Ta.”

“There is no side door,” Harry said.

“Then they are home,” Kevin said, “Come.”

Harry grabbed a towel, dried himself as he followed Kevin and Gia. Hermione watched as Harry left the house, and got into the dull faded red sedan.

“I thought he was just going to have to talk to her father,” Hermione said to Ron.

“Nope, it’s meeting the Dursleys,” Ron said, “Though I’m worried too, might force a breakup.”

“They wouldn’t—” Hermione said.

“It’d be in their rights and they just might,” Ron said, “Depends on whether their hatred and contempt of Harry outweighs their fear of association with him.”

“If there’s anybody I’d rather curse more, I haven’t found them,” Hermione said.

Meanwhile, Kevin drove the sedan, getting closer to Little Whinging.

“I’m sorry but this isn’t meant as torture,” Kevin said, “I’m curious about the boy getting his hooks into my daughter. Do you deny having sex?”

“No,” Harry said.

“Good, then you understand,” Kevin said.

“Harry’s got strong character,” Gia said.

Gia’s eyes studied Harry’s.

“What?” Harry asked.

Gia, though, leaned into Harry, kissed. Harry slouched back against the door, slid down as she brought her weight onto him, her bare breasts pushed against his chest. Their tongues intertwined. Her left hand, reached down, felt into the loose testicles, letting his stiffening erection push against her wrist as she kept tickling. Still, their lips stayed together as their tongues danced together.

“Like I said, _involved_ ,” Kevin remarked

Turn after turn, the anticipation rumbled within Harry, as billowing smoke came closer as they headed for Privet Drive.

“Nervous?” Gia asked.

“Yeah,” Harry replied.

Gia’s left hand kept rubbing his testicles while her right fingers stroked his ear lobe, both trying to ward off the butterflies that haunted Harry’s stomach. Harry admitted it to himself, her knacks were helping, even if they didn’t totally absolve him of his growing dread.

“Here, right?” Kevin asked, as the car came to a stop.

“Yeah,” Harry said as he sat up.

Harry got out of the car, which was parked next to yellow police tape cordoning off Privet Drive, the origin of the heavy smoke. Each one of the row houses was charred, each one had collapsed, and smoldering wrecks of the parked cars contributed to the noxious fumes lingering in the air. Harry’s thighs and buttocks flexed as he went past a police cruiser and ducked under the tape; he coughed as the hot soot invaded his throat.

“Stop!” a lady police officer said, from nearby.

“My family!” Harry said, paused to point toward number four.

“Likely dead—” the officer said

“I’m finding out!” Harry said as he bolted.

Harry counted the houses to find number four. Harry sorted and dug through the rubble. It occurred to Harry that this likely wasn’t the best time to be naked, however, as he was naked, he did his best to avoid splinters. Harry came across the familiar large lump of flesh, badly burned, Uncle Vernon under the rubble of the living room; the large eyes glared up at Harry, for the last time, eyes that saw Harry’s bottle greens peering back, eyes that seemed miffed at the unscathed smooth skin of Harry’s chest and softening penis. Harry blinked.

“You Bastard!” Uncle Vernon yelled, “You had the nerve to show up after you—”

Kevin and Gia approached; Kevin got to moving more of the rubble.

“Don’t think you’d care,” Harry said to Uncle Vernon, “but, I’m dating.”

“Your uncle?” Kevin asked as he uncovered Aunt Petunia.

“You?” Aunt Petunia spat, “Dating?! Who’d date a scoundrel such as you?”

“Yours?” Kevin asked Harry.

“You never came in July, never bothered with a missing person report,” Uncle Vernon said, “Good riddance, or so I thought!”

“You should have shouted!” a medic scolded, arriving with a stretcher. A second was shortly behind.

Kevin grunted as he helped the medic move Uncle Vernon onto a stretcher.

“Runt likely did this—” Uncle Vernon said, “You’ll wish you never were born!”

“On the verge of death and you’re berating your nephew?!” Kevin said, “Look at—!”

“I have to ask you to leave,” said another male police officer, who had just came over, said to Kevin, Harry, and Gia.

“He’s family—” Kevin protested.

“You’re upsetting them,” the officer said, “Leave or I will have to arrest you—”

“We’re leaving,” Kevin said.

Kevin led the way back to the car, Harry and Gia in a fast trot behind. Harry and Gia crowded into the front passenger seat. Kevin drove fast, tailgating the ambulances, toward the hospital.

“I don’t want—” Harry said.

“And you’d regret it later,” Kevin said.

“You heard them—that was…typical,” Harry said.

“For the record,” Kevin said, glancing at the naked boy, the armpit hair exposed as the right hand was behind Harry’s head, though his left was around Gia, and Gia’s right hand rested on Harry’s thigh, “You’re looking good.”

Kevin parked in the handicap parking spot; they dashed into the _A &E_. Inside were gurneys, some draped in white; orderlies were quickly trying to make order out of the chaos, moving the dead out of sight.

“Dursleys,” Kevin said to the nurse, “Mr. and Mrs—Just came in.”

“I’m sorry,” the nurse said, pointing toward two white draped gurneys in the queue.

Gia followed Harry over, stood next to him as he lifted the sheet of one. Uncle Vernon’s eyes were still open, unflinching, idle, with no breath through his sooted lips. Gia had expected a tear, but saw none as Harry lifted the other sheet; Aunt Petunia, with a nasty bump to her head, also laid idle, unmoving. Harry’s buttocks remained tense, as if he expected another insult from them.

“You are not authorized—” an orderly said to Harry.

“It’s over,” Harry coldly stated, turning toward the door.

“Relation—?” the orderly asked.

“Doesn’t matter anymore,” Harry said, walking fast out the door with Kevin and Gia behind him.

“Sir—” the orderly asked, following fast.

Harry spun fast, stared through his glasses, bearing at the orderly, a bearing that distracted the orderly from Harry’s bare chest and naked body. “It matters no more—I’m nobody to them. Thank you very much.”

“Harry?” Gia asked.

Harry spun again, walked past the officer ticketing Kevin’s illegally parked car. Kevin ran up, gripped Harry’s shoulder.

“Very cold and callous—” Kevin said.

“The matter is over,” Harry stated, “Good riddance—

“Services—” Kevin said.

“I’m likely banned,” Harry said, “I’ll live with it, better off I imagine.”

Kevin opened his mouth.

“Don’t press it,” Gia said, “They were being unusually kind today, as I understand it.”

Kevin turned, ran for his car, which was being threatened by a tow truck. They watched the car leave the parking lot without them, the tow truck having made off with its bounty, though a business card fluttered in the air.

“Bloody hell!” Kevin exclaimed, grabbing the card from the pavement, “He fucking enjoyed that!”

“We go get the car,” Harry said, “Or, Gia and I take the train—”

“I’m escorting you, remember?” Kevin said.

They walked to the bus stop, on the edge of the carpark, past the gate where another car was paying for the parking. Harry sat on the bench, his warm and loose testicles hung over the edge.

“Harry was sent to live with them after his parents died,” Gia said, “Surprised they treated you like that.”

“My mother and Aunt were estranged,” Harry said, “So, I was an imposition, a reminder to the sister they’d rather forget; but they were the only family I had.”

“That doesn’t justify their behavior to you,” Kevin said.

“Life’s rarely fair, I know that,” Harry said, “Gia, though, makes it a bit fairer.”

Harry’s eyes drifted upward, surveyed her standing there, the curves, the nipples, and the stubble around her vagina. She grinned at the sight of his growing flesh, the erection. He stood, held her against the corner of the bus stand as he leaned in, and kissed her.

“My Dad—” Gia started.

“Wasn’t going to have him join in,” Harry said, “Keeping you for _myself_.”

“Ahem,” Kevin said.

“How long to the bus?” Harry asked.

“Minutes,” Gia said.

“It’s time enough,” Harry said.

Harry cast his condom, before turning around. Gia took a couple of steps forward, and partially bent over.

“She’s my daughter!” Kevin said, “And you two are just—”

“Been like this all summer,” Gia said as Harry pushed his hard erection between her legs and into her vulva, “We stopped caring about it, and nobody’s been hassling us.”

Harry drilled as the bus came to a stop.

“Open sex?” Kevin asked.

Harry paused as he felt the spasm, pulled out his dripping cock.

“Thank you for your daughter,” Harry said as he boarded the bus.

Though the bus only had one other passenger, Harry stood in the aisle, in front of Gia as Kevin took the window seat, let the white dew cling and seep out of his still hard dick.

“No questioning the relationship,” Kevin said, “What about protection, or do you have a plan for when my daughter gets pregnant?”

“We’ve already considered the birth control, so unlikely,” Harry said, “But, I do have an inheritance, one that my Aunt and Uncle never touched, enough to get by, for a while.”

“So, you’re rich?” Kevin asked.

“Money isn’t being rich,” Harry said.

“You take care of her, look after her,” Kevin said, “Promise me that.”

“Yes,” Harry said.

* * *

A few hours and hefty penalty later, they returned to Noigate. Harry entered the Granger’s house first.

“—leveled today. Eyewitnesses report seeing three strange teenage boys moments before the incident. One is loosely described a strange pale face and blond hair; however all three were wearing black robes which will make identification of these culprits nearly impossible. At least twenty people have been reported killed. …“

“Take it that things didn’t go as planned,” Hermione said, turning her attention from the radio to Harry.

“It’s over,” Harry said, “No more worrying—”

“Don’t joke—” Hermione said.

“He’s not,” Gia said, “Rubble was still warm when we got there.”

“Privet Drive is no longer,” Harry said.

“Blond hair,” Ron said, “Any guesses? One or less?”

Harry went for the back.

“It’s been more than enough for the day,” Gia said, following.

Ron and Hermione came out the back, sank into the hot tub with Harry and Gia.

“Have you banged today?” Harry asked Ron and Hermione.

“Pardon?” Ron said.

“You’re keeping score?” Hermione asked.

“No,” Harry said, “Like a daily vitamin.”

“Sex as a vitamin?” Gia asked.

“Keeps the relationship healthy,” Harry said, “Here.” He grabbed the tube of lube, handed it over to Ron.

“What’s this?” Ron asked.

“Makes it go more smoothly,” Harry said, “Especially in here.”

“Think that’s my parents!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Good, then it’s dentist approved,” Harry said.

“You’re not exactly being subtle,” Hermione said.

“Realized it had been a couple of days, I like seeing it,” Harry said.

“Pervert,” Ron said.

“Yep,” Harry said.

“Please?” Gia mouthed to Hermione.

“Need directions?” Hermione asked Ron.

“No,” Ron stated.

“Just grease it up before use,” Harry said.

“I get the idea,” Ron said, feeling a bit of the goop.

Ron stood, the three of them watched as he applied the lubricant to his stiffening penis; a smile came to his face.

“Um…” Ron muttered, trying to think about the best way to proceed.

“Hermione, head to Harry, float upward,” Gia said.

Hermione did this, floated, let her head rest in Harry’s lap, his erection beneath her, while his thighs supported her shoulders, bearing her reduced weight.

“Alright, here we go,” Ron said.

Harry’s and Gia’s remained fixed on Ron’s shiny hard cock as he stepped between Hermione’s legs, the testicles floated on the water.

“Lift with your back,” Gia said.

Hermione’s legs moved upward, her feet caught onto Ron’s shoulders, and his hands lifted her hips. All saw the brief hint of red pulsate across the shaft before it hooked into her, penetrated inward. His shaft slipped inward and outward as he drilled; pulling out. His hard cock swayed back and forth as it begun to erupt. Ron’s first shot leapt out fast, flew past Hermione’s face, to hit Harry’s chin; the rest left a splattered mess strewn across Hermione’s stomach and chest.

“Sorry,” Ron said.

“Don’t be,” Harry said, “I mean, never mind.”

Ron sat on the edge to the other side of the hot tub; Hermione spun around, sat between Ron’s legs, letting his hard penis push against her neck.

“See what you wanted?” Ron asked.

“After today, you are my family,” Harry said, “It’s nice seeing you bang, that’s all.”

“So your Aunt?” Ron asked.

“Dead,” Gia said, “Her and the Uncle.”

“Your cousin?” Ron asked.

“I didn’t think to ask,” Harry said, “Didn’t exactly have a long chance to chat.”

“You were worried about stuff happening this year,” Ron said, “Guess they got a head start.”

“It was daring though, in broad daylight,” Harry said, “Fortunately, I don’t consider the Dursleys a big loss. … Well, maybe Uncle Vernon is.” He snickered.

Hermione said sternly, “That’s not funny.”

* * *

Ron woke next next morning, Monday, to being shaken by Hermione, towering over him on the sofa. Despite the breasts in his view, he was focused on her face watching back.

“Diagon Alley!” Hermione said, “Come on! Get your list—”

“Later,” Ron said, figuring it a task best left to the last minute.

“Things to study—” Hermione said.

“Borrow Harry’s book for Hagrid’s,” Ron said, hoping to at least push her to go the next day.

“And smolder my essays before I can do them next to the fire extinguisher?” Hermione said, “You need to study too, so get your list—stop right there!” Her gaze, her attention, shifted rapidly, turned to Harry and Gia heading for the door. “We’re going, NOW!”

“Alright, alright,” Ron grumbled as he got up. Buttocks flexed, his bare toes gripped into the white carpet, as he crossed the living room. He walked into the fireplace, dropped in Floo Powder, and shouted, “The Burrow!”

Green flame shot upward as Ron spun, tendrils flicked upward between his hanging todger and his thighs, over his buttocks, up his crack, and across his bare skin, for a moment before being hurdled out of the fireplace. Ron tumbled, adorned with soot, and fell to the floor next to Hermione.

“Bloody hell!” Ron exclaimed, getting back up.

Beep, BEep, BEEP!

Three ascending tones came from the fireplace, accompanied by a voice, “We’re sorry, but the fireplace you’re trying to reach is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please contact customer service, or try your Floo again.”

“Use the good stuff,” Hermione said, pointing to another bucket of Floo Powder.

Ron entered the fireplace, again, dropping the Floo Powder, yelled, “The Burrow!”

Again, Ron was thrown out, this time, falling onto his bare butt.

Beep, BEep, BEEP!

Three ascending tones came from the fireplace, accompanied by a voice, “We’re sorry, but the fireplace you’re trying to reach is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please contact customer service, or try your Floo again.”

“It’s only getting worse,” Hermione said.

Ron stood. “I’m trying! If you’re not satisfied, try it yourself!”

Hermione grabbed Floo Powder, entered the fireplace, and yelled as dropped the powder, “The Burrow!”

As happened to Ron, Hermione spun. Green flame traced her skin, flowed around the breasts, as she turned. She, too, found herself being thrown out; Ron caught her.

Beep, BEep, BEEP!

Three ascending tones came from the fireplace, accompanied by a voice, “We’re sorry, but the fireplace you’re trying to reach is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please contact customer service, or try your Floo again.”

Harry grabbed a handful, stepped, and yelled as dropped the powder, “The Burrow!”

Harry, too, spun in the green flame, tendrils covered every square inch of his bare skin, and was thrown out. Harry, though, was airborne, collided with Ron and Hermione, knocking them both over; his glasses flung halfway across the living room.

Beep, BEep, BEEP!

Three ascending tones came from the fireplace, accompanied by a voice, “We’re sorry, but the fireplace you’re trying to reach is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please contact customer service, or try your Floo again.”

Ron got up, went to the fireplace.

“Try this,” Ron said, as he grabbed a new handful, dropped it as he yelled, “The Kirbys!”

Ron spun up in the green flame, and again, he was thrown back out. He stumbled, but caught himself, he was now covered in ashen black; this included every bit of his bare skin, from his toe nails, to his chest, and his pubic hair.

Three ascending tones came from the fireplace, accompanied by a voice, “We’re sorry, but the fireplace you’re trying to reach is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please contact customer service, or try your Floo again.”

“There is the train,” Gia said.

“Just as reliable,” Linda said, lifting her eyes from a magazine, “Just like BT1.”

“Got an idea,” Ron said.

Harry leaned back, put his bare buttocks against the back of the sofa.

“Think my list is there too,” Harry said, “Hermione, can we just use yours?”

“You’re not taking Arithmacy, or Muggle Studies,” Hermione said.

“He’s studying a muggle,” Ron said as he threw in a fistful of Floo Powder.

“Some people just never learn,” Hermione said.

“Calling the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office!” Ron shouted.

A face appeared in the fireplace, that of Perkins, Arthur Weasley’s coworker.

“Which Weasley is this?” Perkins asked.

“Ron,” Ron replied.

“Just a moment,” Perkins said.

Perkins disappeared, replaced by Arthur Weasley a minute later.

“Yes?” Arthur asked.

“Dad,” Ron said, “I tried getting the Burrow—what’s up? It and the Kirbys are disconnected.”

Arthur turned his face. “Perkins—? … Thank you.” He turned back to Ron. “Grangers?” Ron nodded. “I’ll get back to you.” Arthur disappeared.

Ron sighed. “Never had a problem before, though it gets me out of—”

“No it does not,” Hermione said, “I do have my list and we do share some—”

“Ron?” Arthur’s face reappeared in the fireplace. “Ours was abnormally disconnected at the source, Kirbys have some residual interference of some sort. I’m departing immediately.” His face vanished.

“In the meanwhile, we’re leaving—” Hermione started.

Arthur’s face reappeared. “I cannot Apparate to the Burrow either.”

“I’ll drive you,” Linda said, car keys now twirling on her fingers, “And you can tell me all about your trip.”

Arthur smirked. “I’ll meet you out there.” He vanished.

“Mom!” Hermione protested.

“Do you need the ride or not?” Linda asked, her eyes focused on her naked teenage daughter, one that seemingly had no intention of getting dressed.

“It’s this or the train,” Harry said, “We need to know what’s happening.”

“Yeah, let’s go,” Ron said.

“In five minutes, we need showers,” Hermione said, her eyes on their mutually soot covered bodies.

Ten minutes later, they crowded into the bright yellow sedan; Hermione sat in the front, while Harry squeezed between Ron and Gia for the middle of the back seat.

“Devon, was it?” Linda asked.

“Yes,” Ron said.

Linda shifted the drive selector, began to move the car.

“I don’t see why you insisted on not getting dressed,” Linda said.

“Hermione takes an hour just to narrow down her selection,” Ron said.

“Hey!” Hermione snapped.

“Habit,” Gia said.

“I know you two were planning something before you left,” Linda said.

“It stuck,” Hermione said.

“It’s more…comfortable,” Harry said, “Even the worst of the stares, and it’s still better.”

“Lovesick naked boys and girls,” Linda asked, “Have you considered protection?”

“Except that question,” Harry said.

“If you mean birth control, condoms, that sort, Mrs. G,” Gia said, “We figured that out.”

“Good, at least you’re not compounding one bad decision with another,” Linda said as she merged onto the motorway.

“It wasn’t a bad decision!” Hermione said, “We set out to have a good time, and we had a good time—wisely. As a bonus, I know my friends very well, I think I can even pick their dicks out of a lineup.”

“Thank you,” Ron said to Hermione.

“I never said those other pictures would be of dicks,” Hermione said.

Gia laughed.

“Hey!” Ron said.

Linda drove, using the M3 for most of the distance. Harry, Ron, Gia, and Hermione continued to swelter and sweat, not from the heat, but from Linda’s questions. Hermione figured out to deflect most of the awkward questions by delving into the museums that they had visited. Hermione used a map, pointed as they needed to turn, first to Catchpole, before Ron guided to St. Ottery, to the underused driveway.

“That’s the..” Hermione muttered, jaw dropping, as they rounded the shrubbery.

Ron quickly opened the car door before Linda had brought it to a stop, he stumbled as he gained his footing, and ran toward the big pile of rubble where the Burrow formerly stood; around the pile were other red haired individuals.

“WHAT HAPPENED?!” Ron demanded.

Harry stopped beside Ron. “Explains the Floo thing.”

“Not funny,” Ron snapped.

Bill Weasley, with his flowing shoulder length red hair, glanced up from the other side of the pile, came over to Harry and Ron. Bill ignored Harry and Ron’s nudity. Hermione and Gia joined up with them.

“Fortunately everyone is accounted for,” Bill said, “I think the House Elves are holding themselves up in the tree house.”

“Decades of memories.” Arthur Weasley walked up. “According to the neighbors, a pale faced teenager boy with blond hair was asking around at the cafe about us, where Ottery Street was, that sort. His two male friends, both heavy build, took off in this direction. John, next door, said they walked past his place shortly before he saw the dust cloud. Took me an hour to walk from where I could Apparate to, definitely magic.”

Charlie, who just arrived, started moving the rubble. They all pitched in.

“And they will pay,” Ron promised.

“Remain the better man,” Arthur said, “An investigation will ensue, after which, we can rebuild, if we desire to. In the meanwhile, I believe all can find suitable accommodation—”

“Can’t believe it!” said the voice of Percy coming from a distance on a path obscured by the leafy vines and bushes, “Not only did they forget my birthday four days ago, but having to walk home. Juliet, I mean, I go to see Dad, told he’s gone on an emergency. Can’t Apparate or use the Floo Network. So what do I do? Have to Apparate to the Kirbys and walk from there—”

“Perce,” said the voice of Juliet, Percy’s current girlfriend, “It could be important.”

“Yeah right,” Percy said, “Likely Fred and George again, it wouldn’t be the first time.”

Percy rounded the corner, in full and fancy dress robes, and froze in his footsteps. His eyes moved and he looked at the rubble pile for a minute before Bill looked up.

“Jams everything for miles,” Bill said

“About time,” Percy spat, a look of indignation on his face.

Harry joined in the collective glare at Percy. Percy returned the glare, with seething contempt, and left with Juliet. Harry reached down, picked up a broken timber, tossed it aside. Gia, Ron, and Hermione joined in the effort. Despite their genitals jiggling, the other Weasleys appreciated their efforts.

“I couldn’t help but notice your attire,” Mr. Arthur Weasley said to Harry and Ron.

“Like we used to do,” Ron said, “When—you know, this was standing.”

“That was in the heat of the summer before you hit puberty,” Arthur said.

“It became our summer uniform,” Harry said, “You need the help here, I presume we’re not using magic to clear it out.”

“It is still unstable,” Arthur said, “And we have things buried beneath we’re going to try to scavenge, best to be careful.”

They returned to the work; Harry watching his step around the rubble.

“Found it!” Charlie exclaimed, lifting up their beloved VitalFamily™ kitchen clock. Arthur came to tears, the hands shattered, including Molly’s one that had been burnt.

Harry and Ron found their trunks; Hedwig flew down to meet them. Hermione and Gia helped to pull all they could from where Ron’s room had collapsed onto. Arthur Weasley came over.

“I thank you for the assistance,” Mr. Weasley said to them, “While I plan to see you on platform 9¾, if I don’t, have a fun year at Hogwarts.”

“What about you?” Harry asked.

“Don’t worry about me,” Arthur said, “What counts is that everyone came out safe. While we’ll camp out until this is cleared, Fred and George do have their new shop, so that is a possibility. As to you lot, well, Mrs. Granger?”

“Yes,” Linda said.

“That settles it,” Arthur said, “I’ll see you Sunday.”

Harry and Ron loaded their trunks into the boot of Mrs. Granger’s car. Ron followed Hermione into the back seat, his hands began to feel her up, and his dick was hard.

“Up front,” Linda Granger said to Hermione.

Hermione scrambled between the seats, moved up front. Linda got in, drove away, away from there the Burrow had once stood.

“Sorry that happened,” Hermione said.

“You didn’t have anything to do with it?” Ron asked.

“No!” Hermione retorted.

“Made us sweaty,” Harry said, unbuckling his seat belt.

“So?” Ron asked.

Harry, though, moved, squatted in front of Gia, his back against the driver’s seat, both feet to either side of Gia; he leaned stiffed at Gia’s neck, licked it.

“Are you buckled up?” Linda asked.

“In a moment,” Gia said, “Harry just had to help me with something.”

Gia unbuckled her belt, pulled it over Harry’s back, and buckled it back in, capturing them both, together. His knees to his chest as he leaned into Gia, his tongue entered hers, and his dick rapidly stiffened.

“Yep,” Ron stated.

“Oh,” Hermione said, shaking her head, as she glanced at her friends, making out behind her mother’s back.

“What?” Linda asked.

“Guess staying with you is out of the question,” Hermione said to Ron, trying to deflect the conversation.

“Yeah,” Ron said, “Even with a good repair charm, Dad’d want to be certain, and that’s if it can be rebuilt, depends on what took it down.”

Both Harry and Gia were breathing heavily as their hands moving.

“Are they—?” Linda asked.

“It’s them being them,” Ron said, dismissively, “Have you gotten this car to fly?”

“Fly?!” Linda said, “Don’t change the subject, they’re having sex, aren’t they?”

“No,” Ron said, glancing at Harry and Gia, “His dick’s not in, not yet.”

“Now he is,” Hermione said, seeing Harry push into Gia.

“Keep driving,” Ron said, “Ignore it.”

“Need them to drive?” Hermione said, “There’s that year they drove a flying car to Hogwarts.”

“Mrs. Granger,” Ron said in a calm manner while leaning a bit forward, “Yes, we have been naked and sexual.” He paused as Harry kept drilling into and out of Gia. “We demand and give respect. You have a wonderful daughter, she doesn’t let me disrespect her.”

“So you two have been doing it,” Linda said.

“Regularly,” Hermione said, “We do it with trust, understanding, and candor; we do learn, and we are being responsible. Which means that even though my good friend is shagging his girlfriend, they are otherwise behaving themselves, and they do have the car hiding their act from the road. And when I happen to see them do the act, I hope they’re both satisfied with it.”

“I cannot endorse teenagers having sex!” Linda said.

“Would you rather we hide it, pretend it doesn’t happen?” Hermione said, “I’m not explaining it, but this is downright _healthy_ for Harry.”

“To be short,” Ron said, “We see it, but we’re not stopping it. They can do it, and best to let it happen, as he’s about to fall asleeep.”

“What?” Harry asked, pulling out, his cock dripping.

“You do, you like to sleep after you bang,” Ron said.

“No,” Harry said, turning around, slipping out of the belt.

“You do…” Ron stopped, because Harry was already on his back, head against Ron’s thigh, eyelids fluttered closed. Gia massaged into the purse between Harry’s legs.

“Shh!” Hermione said to her mother, hushing her to remain quiet for the rest of the drive back to Noigate.

* * *

Traffic turned the M25 into a parking lot for over an hour as Linda Granger drove them back to Noigate. Harry woke up as they left the M25, he kept his head on Ron’s lap, while his butt was wedged against Gia’s thigh.

“I’m hungry,” Ron said.

“I’d like to see my Dad,” Gia said.

“We’ll take care of the food,” Linda said, “The other—it’s late enough as it is, how about tomorrow?”

Linda pulled alongside a fish and chips shop; they got out.

“It is a new you,” Linda said, “I remember you being worried about the knickers—”

“Mum!” Hermione said, “Ron’s shallow, he needs to constantly see my kitten.”

“Wouldn’t say constantly,” Ron said, “Still, it’s magnificent, a masterpiece. We went to museum after museum, but such a waste of time when here, here was the true wonder of the universe, a beauty.”

“In other words, he wants sex,” Hermione said.

“You know, it’s close enough,” Gia said, “We can walk to my Dad’s from here.”

“You’re not hungry?” Linda asked.

“They’ll eat first,” Ron said.

Linda paid for the orders, they sat.

“It ages you ten years in an instant when you learn that your teenage daughter is sexually active,” Linda said, “What are the precautions you’re taking?”

“It’s some spell,” Gia said.

“A charm, a condom,” Hermione said, “Sheaths their todgers in magic, perfect protection, perfect sensation.”

“Can’t by chance package this?” Linda said, “Think there’s a plenty of couples that would find that useful.”

“I do want to see Dad, tonight,” Gia said.

“We can swing by—” Hermione started.

“Think the day’s already been a bit crowded,” Linda said.

“You’ve been kind enough,” Harry said, “It’s not too far from here, right Gia?”

“Yes,” Gia said.

“We’ll walk it, be back at your place by midnight,” Harry said.

“Certain?” Linda asked.

“Walking does him good,” Gia said, “Gotta keep him trim.”

“Of course,” Linda said.

Harry and Gia got up, left.

“If they hadn’t of had sex in the car—” Linda started.

“Mom, we’re old enough, it’s happening,” Hermione said, “We’re not going to stop even if you’re pretending it’s not occurring!”

“Listen, Mrs. G, I do know Hermione well enough to _not_ even dare to skip the condom,” Ron said, “It works!” Ron stood, let his stiffening penis become the center of Linda’s attention. “Now.” A red flash, a glow swarmed around his hard erection. “Now it’s ready!”

“It works,” Hermione said, standing up.

Linda looked as if she had a heart attack, watching as Ron pushed his hard cock into Hermione’s vagina. Ron drilled, pulled out a cock that was swirling with white semen around it.

“Nothing gets out until—” Ron concentrated, the glow vanished “—until I want it too.” White semen dripped from him, onto the table.

“I did not need a demonstration,” Linda said, “A demonstration of public sex!”

“Not our first time,” Ron said.

“When was that?” Linda stammered.

“Koktebel,” Ron said, “I think.”

“You think?” Linda asked.

“It was beautiful,” Hermione said, “They had this festival, naked music festival—”

* * *

Meanwhile, Harry and Gia headed toward James Lane.

“Hold up,” Gia said, squatting on the sidewalk.

Harry recognized it, knew what she was about to do. He stood in front of her, and her eyes focused on him retracting his foreskin, as he waited for her. She leaned forward as she began to urinate, his stream formed and he peed; Harry’s stream went down, inches in front of her, to join her puddle. Harry held his stiffening penis, kept it aimed downward, until he stopped peeing and she stood.

“Come,” Harry said.

Harry let his jutting hard erection sway as they continued, he held her hand. They walked along, about a mile from the shop to James Lane. Right before the S–bend, a police cruiser was parked, blocking the way, with its flashing blue lights pulsating across the homes and trees, pushing away the darkness of the night.

“Sir! Ma’am!” a nearby police officer said.

Gia, though, ignored him, and rounded the second bend; more flashing lights as a horde of police cars, firetrucks, and a medical transport were nearby, but a short distance away from the trailer in the driveway. A number of police officers had their weapons drawn, using their cars as shields, aimed toward the trailer.

“Sir!” the first officer chased Harry and Gia, “STOP!”

“But—” Gia started to protest.

“BACK!” the officer commanded.

Within the swarm of first responders stood one with the biggest hat, with _Chief_ embroidered on it. She turned away from another, when her eyes caught glimpse of Gia. Noigate Police Chief Kristen Osborn walked fast and determined, breaking into a jog.

“Gia Prescott?” Kristen asked.

“That’s me,” Gia said. Whether or not Kristen had noticed Gia being naked, she did not show any concern.

“We have a situation and I think you can assist,” Kristen said, knowing that she was about to break protocol, because Gia had the best chance to resolve the situation peacefully.

“Sure,” Gia said.

Harry followed Gia as they were led through the maze of cars, until they had sight of the wooden park style bench outside the trailer. Sitting on it where three stark naked people, while underneath was a big box containing a bunch of sticks of dynamite, loose nails in between, hooked to wires leading up to a trigger button being held down by the man in the middle.

“Dad!” Gia exclaimed, recognizing the man in the middle as Kevin Prescott.

Kevin Prescott held the button to one hand, and a pistol in the other; the pistol aimed at Ane to his left. To his right was the “ _Jane_ ” that Harry and Gia had previously seen Kevin banging back on July first; she was giggling extensively. Dilated pupils of the three were glancing about, not recognizing anybody, not even Gia, they giggled. Ane pointed to a bird in a tree and laughed. Odors of beer and alcohol permeated the air.

Kristen held Gia in place, kept her from leaping toward him. “Experts believe releasing the button would detonate the device.”

“Not again,” Gia muttered.

“Again?” Kristen asked.

“He’s been high before,” Gia said, “Never this serious—”

“I wish you had talked before, we could’ve intervened,” Kristen said, “Instead we’ve been sitting around for the past six hours, in jeopardy if that thing goes off. Talk to him.”

Kristen handed Gia a microphone from the cruiser closest to the bench, Harry stood next Gia.

“Dad—!” Gia pleaded, taking a step in front of the cruiser.

“Get back—” Kristen.

“Slut!” Kevin yelled.

Harry pointed at Jane, she was doodling using a small knife on Kevin’s bloody thigh.

“Enough—” Gia pleaded.

Quick, Jane then stabbed Kevin in the bollocks as if going for a meatball.

“Exciting—” Kevin said, a grin formed.

BANG 

The pistol went off, Ane started to slump as bits of her brain left sideways, but did not get a chance to finish the slump. Harry, meanwhile, leapt and spun, pushed Gia down and behind him. Kevin had let go of his push button.

BOOM

The dynamite exploded, turning the packed nails into missiles. The intense shock wave tore through, forcing the nails through anything thing that was in their way. It ripped Kevin’s feet from him, hurling them toward the crowd. It pulverized his genitals into nothingness. Ane’s corpse was fractured. His legs detached from his torso, his neck snapped apart, detaching his head. Jane, who had released her bowels, had her shit caught up with the wave tearing her apart limb for limb. It propelled them upward. Ane’s feet headed toward the S–bend in the road, her upper torso sailed upward, heading for the neighbor’s house. Jane’s torso headed, more in a punt, toward the firetruck.

Nails and shards of the former bench flew outward fast, toward everything in the vicinity, including the people and cars in front of the property. These began to pierce into Harry, into his back, many at a time.

The corpses made their journey apparent as gravity took over, pulled them back down. Kevin’s torso now heading for the shattered RV that had already been minced up. Ane’s feet slid underneath the police cruiser. Kevin’s head was still in the air when Harry collapsed, falling hard onto the pavement, his glasses shattered.

“Harry!” Gia yelled.

Her eyes were on Harry, not the head of her father that hit the pavement nearby.

Splat!

She did not witness the pink brains quickly exiting her father’s head as it split open. Instead, she kept her focus on the crumpled naked boy around her.

“Harry!” Gia pleaded.

Kristen plunged downward and saw the wooden shard going through his chest between the ribs; she had hedged her bet, had a plan for this contingency, but didn’t expect it to be an innocent teenage boy. A paramedic was right behind, came fast to a kneal as he felt Harry’s neck.

“Still a pulse,” the paramedic said.

Within thirty seconds, a helicopter, the one that Kristen had staged in the nearby school yard, had arrived and landed, by which time, Harry was already loaded onto a gurney and was wheeled to the helicopter. Gia jumped in alongside them, held on as the helicopter took off. It was a rough five minute flight, one that she had longed for Harry’s grace on a broom, a flight that was forever be her longest even though the hospital was not too far. One flight nurse was gauzing the punctures while the paramedic hand pumped air into him, forcing Harry to breathe.

“Come on Harry,” Gia pleaded.

The helicopter landed, the nurse and an orderly nearby lifted the gurney off the helicopter; the paramedic kept pumping the air, and Gia followed. Gia shoved a cameraman taking footage out of the way, the camera shattered. Gia ran into the hospital, only to be stopped by a different nurse, a tall, imposing lady, in white.

“He’s—” Gia protested.

“In a moment,” the nurse said, holding a clipboard and a pen, “I need—”

“You’ve got his name—Harry Potter,” Gia said, trying to side step the male orderly also blocking her.

“And it’s restricted!” the nurse said, “I—”

“Then come!” Gia said, surprised by her own rage, a determination she had seen in Harry, something that seemed to be carried into herself, “He needs me!” She appeared intimidating as the nurse and the orderly yielded. The orderly took her to a sink, had her sanitize herself before putting on a gown, and escorted her into the operating room.

“Keep quiet,” the orderly said to Gia, “While they save your…”

“He’s very important to me,” Gia whispered.

On the table, in the middle, laid Harry, his abdomen open, the surgeons worked.

“Suction,” called one.

Blood stained the gloves; Gia saw the guts, turned, puked her dinner into a sink, before returning and stepping closer. Gia watched as the surgeons removed a fragment of wood lodged near his heart.

“Where’s that damn blood?” the surgeon demanded.

“We don’t have a type,” another said.

“Are you sure that was O negative?” the surgeon asked.

“All three pints?” the person asked.

“I need more blood, check his medical history for the right type,” the surgeon said.

“No information from the database,” a nurse said.

“None?” the surgeon inquired, “Not even a date of birth?”

“It’s _restricted_ ,” the nurse said, “We can’t override.”

“Your NHS at work,” the surgeon said, “He’s young and seems healthy, so pray that we find out his blood type.”

The nurse took Gia aside.

“I need to know his guardians,” the nurse said.

“Killed yesterday,” Gia said.

“Anybody else we should contact?” the nurse asked.

“Yes,” Gia said.

“And your relation?” the nurse asked.

“I’m his—” Gia said.

* * *

Meanwhile, Hermione sat on the carpet in the middle of the living room, revising her essays while Ron laid there, he was doodling in her Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6 , quill in hand.

“You’ve got your own school books,” Hermione said.

“Not in mint condition,” Ron said. He dipped his quill into the ink jar, worked on the Chudley Canons logo.

Sitting on the sofa, Linda was watching the telly, when a picture of the flattened trailer swarmed by investigating police working in the flood of portable work lights.

“In breaking news,” said the news anchor, “We have word that a police standoff has ended in tragedy. At least three people are dead and a young man is being rushed to the hospital. Our crew is heading to the scene and we will report when we have further details.”

“Bad day for somebody,” Ron said.

Hermione grabbed the nearby phone, dialed.

RING! RING!

“I thought Harry had grabbed the mobile we lent him” Hermione said.

“He’s _naked_ ,” Ron said, “Likely didn’t feel like it ringing out of his arse.”

Hermione sighed.

“Something wrong?” Linda asked.

“That looked somehow familiar,” Hermione said, “Feels funny—oh no you don’t!”

Ron’s quill had threatened her revision of her essay.

“Relax,” Ron said, “Harry and Gia will be back shortly, just had to check in with her Pop.”

“I’m worried,” Hermione said.

“We can settle it,” Ron said, “Need my pacifier?” Ron leaned to his side, shook his penis. “Suck it!”

“Oh no you don’t!” Linda snapped.

“We have an update to the apparent murder suicide. Police confirm that a man and two woman were killed when the man, drunk and under the influence of an illicit drug, detonated an explosive device; the damage was catastrophic. An injured teenager was transported to the hospital, but the hospital refuses to answer our inquiries.”

RING! RING!

“Hello?” Linda asked, picking up the phone, “Yes, just a moment, Hermione!”

Hermione grabbed the phone.

“Hi,” Hermione said, “Who’s this? … Oh…” Color drained from her face, the smile replaced by a more somber straight lips, “We’ll be there. Thank you.”

Hermione’s toes curled, tensed up.

“And?” Ron asked.

“It was Harry,” Hermione said, “He’s at the Hospital in emergency surgery, they’re not sure…”

Keys were already in Linda’s hand, when Ron went to the fireplace. Ron joined Hermione, outside in the car, several minutes later.

“You took your time,” Hermione said to Ron, as Linda moved the car.

“Did Gia say anything more?” Ron asked.

“It was a short call,” Hermione said.

“Dumbledore will want them,” Ron said.

“Dumbledore?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, that’s who I called,” Ron said, “This counts as serious.”

A half hour later, Linda brought the car to a halt in the passenger loading and unloading zone in front of the hospital.

“Call when you get news,” Linda said.

Ron and Hermione got out, walked into the hospital. Once again naked, Gia was in the waiting room.

“He’s still in surgery, they’re closing up now,” Gia said, “He gave a couple of good scares, even thought he was dead, twice, but he’s stabilized. It’s like his magic won’t let him die, a good trait. They should be moving him out momentarily.”

They went to the surgical doors, waited a few minutes until the orderlies moved Harry out. They followed into the Intensive Care ward; they neared a room when Kristen Osborn approached.

“Miss Prescott,” Kristen said, “I have a couple of questions.”

Gia moved off with Kristen while Ron and Hermione entered the room. Harry had many tubes attached to him, a ventilator assisting, while a nurse attached electrodes to a heart monitor.

“He’s flirting,” Ron said.

“It’s not funny,” Hermione snapped.

Gia came into the room fifteen minutes later; Kristen with her.

“I’ll let Richard know in the morning,” Kristen said, and left.

“So, just what happened?” Hermione asked.

“Dad must’ve shot himself up,” Gia said, “Another relapse.”

“Drugs?” Hermione said, “I wasn’t aware he used them.”

“It’s not like we advertised it!” Gia said, “Every time, it was different, good thing he died because I’d murder him myself.”

“Gia!” Hermione exclaimed.

“He didn’t fucking recognize me!” Gia said, “High as a kite, and it didn’t click that I was his daughter. I’m sorry, but he died when he injected up, he chose some hooker over me, like I’m…”

“Stop,” Ron said, “Don’t beat yourself up.”

“My Dad committed suicide, the real one perished years ago,” Gia said, “He nearly killed me, and he would have if it weren’t for Harry. Harry saved me, he used his body to take the blast, he protected me, and he’s a force to be reckoned with, even naked. I can trust him with my life.”

* * *

1 British Telephone  



	11. Custody

It was just after midnight when the door opened. In a slow walk, Professor Dumbledore entered the room, Madam Pomfrey following him. Madam Pomfrey went straight for Harry, her wand was now probing. Dumbledore, who was carrying a bag with cloth straps around his arm, turned to Ron.

“Excellent guard,” Professor Dumbledore said, slowly, “Mr. Weasley, thank you for informing me. Miss Prescott, he should have gone to St. Mungo’s.”

“There was no time,” Gia said, “It—he caught the blast.”

“Your heart is in the right place, of course,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Still in your summer uniforms?”

“Oh, this?” Ron asked, suddenly jarred back to the fact that they were sitting there, naked.

“To be young again,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I heard your trip went well.”

“Saw my brother Charlie there,” Ron said, “Though we saw him … was it this morning?”

“It’s already past midnight,” Hermione said.

“Most unfortunate,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Got our trunks though,” Ron said, “We’ll be ready for school.”

“You’re optimistic,” Hermione said to Ron, “Haven’t started a single essay.”

“We’ve got days,” Ron retorted.

“Poppy?” Professor Dumbledore asked, changing the topic back to Harry.

“Nothing too serious.” Madam Pomfrey gave Hermione a flask. “Give this to Mr. Potter when he wakes.”

“I will see you on Sunday,” Professor Dumbledore said, while setting the bag down, “In the meanwhile, some tokens for Mr. Potter when he’s fit to handle it.”

Professor Dumbledore walked slowly out of the room; Madam Pomfrey by his side.

“I think Harry needs a blow,” Ron said

“Ron,” Hermione scolded.

“Just looking out for his best interests,” Ron said, “I mean, if you can’t rely on your friends to do that, who can you rely on?”

* * *

Around the same time as when the moon was trying to skirt behind the trees of the park, Harry’s eyelids drifted open.

“What the—?” Harry stammered, “Ugliest nudes then this—”

“Nightmare,” Gia said.

Harry sat up, the blanket reached his lap, but his bare chest showed the a myriad of white bandages.

“It’s good to wake up,” Harry said, his eyes surveying her voluptuous breasts. He pulled the blanket and gown off, letting his penis out.

“We’ll play with that, later,” Gia said, seeing his dick stiffen.

“Oh?” Harry muttered.

“It was close,” Gia said, “A rough ride.”

“Gifts from Dumbledore,” Ron said, pointing to the bag.

“Him?” Harry said, “A minor—”

“Major surgery is not minor,” Hermione said, “Drink up! It’s on Madam Pomfrey.”

Harry took the flask, sniffed the contents, and frowned.

“It ain’t pumpkin juice,” Ron said.

“Your Dad?” Harry asked.

“Dead,” Gia said, “Nearly killed you, me, no, he’s completely dead to me. I’m tending to you.”

Harry swigged the flask, downed the potion, sputtering a bit back.

“Definitely not pumpkin juice,” Harry said, “Makes Skele–Gro seem better.”

“Tried talking her into giving head,” Ron said, “Figured some sex would help you recover.”

“Excuse me?” Gia said, “I’ve just seen my Dad ripped to shreds. Harry nearly _died_ , and saw him cut open as they worked to save him. That’s _after_ his Aunt and Uncle were killed and your home destroyed. It’s one large emotional roller coaster, bit too much.”

“Hermione, give Harry head,” Ron said.

“No Ronald,” Hermione said, “I’m not a hooker for hire!”

“Then you do it,” Harry said to Ron, “I mean, it’s a good idea.”

Hermione laughed.

“I guess, if you need me to,” Ron said.

“A little sex cures everything,” Harry said.

Chuckling accompanied the man in a white doctor coat coming in through the door, Dr. Patrick carried a clipboard.

“If only that were true,” Dr. Patrick said.

“It is,” Harry said.

“Please leave, just outside is fine,” Dr. Patrick said to Ron and Hermione.

“They can stay,” Harry said.

“I’m sorry but patient confidentiality rules require this to remain confidential,” Dr. Patrick said, “Only the patient and his wife stay, you may share the results with your friends later.”

“Come on,” Ron said to Hermione. Ron closed the door as they left.

“I’m astounded that he’s awake so soon,” Dr. Patrick said, “How long Mrs. Potter?”

Harry glanced at Gia, a slight expression of confusion on his face.

“Several minutes,” Gia said.

“I’m the one being tortured,” Harry said, “All this for a mild headache, can I leave now?”

“Inadvisable,” Dr. Patrick said, “With as much stress as you’ve had, you shouldn’t even have sex for a week.”

“A week?” Harry stammered.

“You’ll live,” Gia said.

“Years studying for a medical degree, I’ll give you my opinion,” Dr. Patrick said.

Harry yelped like a lonely puppy as Dr. Patrick examined, poked about, before checking beneath the bandages at the surgical scars that were already fading. “Fast metabolism, very fast.” Dr. Patrick’s eyes landed at the forehead, and Harry’s legendary scar. “That one, though—”

“Tattoo,” Gia said, deflecting the inquiry.

Dr. Patrick shook his head as Harry moved to sit on the end of the bed. Harry’s legs drapped over the edge, his legs parted to show his loose testicles resting on the sheets.

“A few days, at least, and avoid solid foods until tomorrow, your stomach took a beating,” Dr. Patrick said, “However, you could stand to gain a bit of weight—you’re definitely underweight Mr. Potter, unhealthy.”

“Days?” Harry said, “I’ve got school to go to.”

“I’m skeptical because your recovery is usually fast for the injuries you sustained,” Dr Patrick said, “I’d feel much better if you waited a few days out in observation.”

Dr. Patrick jotted several notes onto his clipboard and left the room.

“He called you _Mrs. Potter_ ,” Harry said.

“They were being annoying,” Gia said, “So, I claimed being your wife. It cut back on the questions and they stopped trying to shoo me out. Figured you’d approve rather than having to explain away your Aunt and Uncle.”

“Just give him a blow,” Ron said, entering, with a slice of pizza in his hands, and his smooth chest above the trail of red from his naval down to his bushy pubic hair, “Oh, Cafeteria’s just down the hall.”

“Food’s all he can think about!” Hermione said.

“I’m hungry,” Ron said.

“He’s still growing,” Harry said.

Ron blushed, as the thought reminded him that he was still naked, having not dressed since the first of July; every bit still on public display, including his bare arse that was implicitly mooning everybody he walked past.

“I can see that,” Hermione said.

“You said something about gifts?” Harry asked, wanting to change the topic.

Hermione grabbed the cloth bag, set it next to Harry. Harry dumped out the contents onto the bed between his legs. Cards and packages fell out. Harry reached for the package of chocolate frogs.

Harry,

Get well!

Hagrid

“Have one,” Harry said to Ron, before moving to the next letter.

Harry

Trying to steal the thunder? Feel free to visit us at 93 Diagon Alley!

Fred & George, or is it George & Fred?

“They’re showing off,” Ron said.

“It’s good to have some fun,” Harry said, “And good business too.”

Harry rattled off the names of the other cards. “Lupin, McGonagall—” Ron blushed “—Flitwick, Sprout, and … Dobby.” Harry held up a pair of socks.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” Hermione said.

“I’m not tired,” Harry protested.

“He should be.” Through the door came Richard Osborn. “Mum just told me Gia—”

Gia smiled.

“Hitting on her?” Harry asked.

“Bagged my own man.” Richard threw up his hands. “You certainly blasted onto the news.”

“Not funny,” Hermione said.

“She’s normally a sour puss,” Ron said, “Positively—hey!” Hermione’s elbow recoiled from his ribs.

Richard, in his white T–shirt and blue shorts, surveyed the four teenagers; Harry, Gia, Ron, and Hermione were naked; Hermione was fidgeting with Ron’s penis. Richard blushed, his eyes seeing a white string peeking out with Hermione’s carpeted entrance to her vagina, however, Gia’s legs were open and not attempting to hide her shaven pussy.

While Gia wasn’t trying to advertise, she wasn’t hiding her femininity either, having adopted Harry’s attitude that it better to be worn as common than hidden. Gia noticed the sudden tent pole sprouting beneath the bulge of Richard’s shorts.

“Thanks for showing up,” Gia said, “It’s been … stressful.”

“Mum’s still at the barracks,” Richard said, “You wouldn’t believe the paperwork she has to go through.”

“At least she can go through it,” Gia said.

“Sorry for it all,” Richard said, “Wish I could help.”

“We’ve all got plenty to be stressed over,” Harry said.

“You’re the talk at the nurses’ station,” Richard said, “They expected to be notifying your next of kin last night, instead, you look like you’re ready to leave.”

“Can you break me out?” Harry asked.

“What’s your secret?” Richard asked.

“Sex,” Gia said, “Gotta entice him.” She curled her fingers around Harry’s hard erection.

Richard laughed.

“Speaking of that,” Richard said, “Going hiking any time soon?”

“Aw, that’s what you’re thinking about?” Gia asked.

“It was exciting going starkers,” Richard said, “Very…casual, nice seeing you.”

“We’re not slabs of meat!” Hermione protested.

“Wasn’t saying you were,” Richard said, “Got a girl myself.”

“You and Jen?” Gia asked.

“Yep, both went,” Richard said, “Don’t tell Mum about it all, she…she’s overlooking you because, as I said, the heat, and, well after your Dad…”

“Yeah, not everybody agrees with it,” Harry said, “Still, nice letting it out.”

“Yep,” Ron said, “Certain fringe benefits.”

SMACK!

“Hey!” Ron exclaimed at Hermione.

“So, what are you going to do?” Richard asked Gia, figuring it was good the change the subject, “I mean, your home’s gone.”

“Dunno,” Gia said, “Got nothing now, save Harry.”

“Wrong,” Richard said, “You’ve got more friends than that. Heck, I think Mum’d agree if you needed the guest room.”

“Cheap action?” Hermione asked.

“Hermione!” Ron said, “Be polite, I’m sure he’s getting action, I mean, a handsome bloke like him ought to be able to score a _friend_.”

Harry, meanwhile, opened the letter addressed in Professor Dumbledore’s familiar loopy handwriting. A pair of Hogwarts pins tumbled out.

“He agreed?” Ron asked.

Harry read the letter.

Dear Mr. Harry Potter,

I hope you have a speedy recovery. You may be interested in resuming a particular arrangement. You may do so under the same terms as before. Enclosed are two items that you need for this. I do not mind Mr. Ron Weasley or Miss Hermione Granger taking part in this liberty should they wish to.

Professor Dumbledore

Ron, Hermione, and Gia also knew what Professor Dumbledore was implying, consenting to letting Harry commute via Portkey, like he had at the end of the prior term.

“Yes, I think we can spare the guest room, if you want to,” Richard said, “Perhaps you can help push Mum and Dad’s away from their antiquated notions—”

“Friendship first,” Harry said.

“Right,” Richard said, “I’m a bit hungry, so I’ll catch something at the Cafeteria and head home to Jen. See ya.”

“Oh, sorry!” Hermione exclaimed.

Eyes fell onto Ron as Hermione’s hand withdrew from the hard erection as it started to erupt. Ron ejaculated.

“Don’t be sorry, do it more often,” Harry said, “Unless you were planning to fuck and this was premature…rotten luck.”

“You mean you wanted to watch,” Hermione said, “You’re a peeping Tom!”

“I know this may come as a surprise, but I _like_ seeing my friends having a good time,” Harry said, “I’m on my death bed and you’re trying to deny me that!”

“You’re not on your death bed,” Hermione said.

“Just because you gave the Muggles a scare, she’s right,” Ron said, “You’re fine. Though, Gia, it’s clear he wanted in on the action.”

“Doctor’s probably right, no real sex today,” Harry said, “Though see nothing wrong with something light.”

“You just want me to suck your dick,” Gia said to Harry.

“Of course,” Harry said, grinning.

“You’re the one putting ideas into his head,” Gia said to Ron. However, Ron wasn’t paying attention, drifting into sleep, snoring.

Harry leaned back, laid down, as Gia climbed onto the bed. She put her crotch over his head, his eyes studied the stubble, the flaps lining the entrance. Gia studied the dick, the bollocks resting on the sheet.

“It’s an addition, one sample and you’re hooked for life!” Hermione said.

“I wish you didn’t say that,” Gia said.

“Sorry, I forgot,” Hermione replied.

Gia’s hands held the hard erection, her thumbs retracted Harry’s foreskin, and she kissed on the slit. Her tongue began to work the head of the dick, teasing and licking, massaging inward. She widened her mouth, lowered her head, letting his hardness dock inside. Her breath, her tongue, Harry calmed and relaxed, letting him ignore the bother of the IV needles still in his arms. Her tongue moved as she had long since learned to do, to stimulate, to titillate Harry. Her fingers teased, worked into his scrotum, feeling and massaging the lumps of his bollocks beneath. Quickly, Gia tasted what Harry felt, the surge unleashed. Gia pulled off, intent on watching.

“Hello cousin—” started a teenage boy, fifteen, who had entered the room; he turned crimson as Harry began to ejaculate. Gia’s cousin Trevor stood there, fixated, his wits too slow for him to retreat, instead, focusing on Gia’s face as Harry’s orgasm commenced.

Another man entered, two steps behind, Gia’s Uncle Marty, who also witnessed as Harry’s salvos started. Gia tumbled to her side, the erection firing, spreading Harry’s semen across her face. Harry’s dick kept spewing as he caught her, both sat up.

“Should I hang up the Do Not Disturb sign?” Uncle Marty asked.

Ron started to laugh, but glanced at Harry’s expression, left the room; Hermione followed.

“No, no,” Gia said, “We’re fine.”

Trevor handed Gia a tissue, and she wiped Harry’s seed from her face, in time for another lady to enter. Gia recognized the distinctive flower hat quicker than the woman herself.

“Aunt Ruth!” Gia exclaimed.

“Your family?” Harry asked.

“Uncle Marty is brother to Dad,” Gia said, “Trevor’s the oldest, while Aunt Ruth was sister to my Mum.”

“Nice to meet you,” Harry said.

“Your boyfriend?” Aunt Ruth asked while glaring at the naked Harry with a softening cock that still had traces of white semen on it.

“It’s obvious!” Uncle Marty said.

“Gia’s nice,” Harry said, “Way better than a teddy bear.”

“So your Dad finally went nutters?” Aunt Ruth asked.

“He only tried to kill me,” Gia said.

“Don’t condemn him when he was obviously out of his mind,” Uncle Marty said, “I thought he kicked that habit years ago.”

“This world’s better off,” Aunt Ruth said.

“He was _my_ Dad!” Gia snapped.

“You know nothing of him,” Aunt Ruth said, “Did he ever tell how you were conceived? Rape.”

“Fuck!” Gia growled.

“Oh, it was hushed up, they forced to marry to cover it up,” Aunt Ruth said.

“Enough of that!” Uncle Marty said, “Gia’s here, it’s today, and she’s a wonderful girl.”

“Oh, I can see how she’s handling things,” Aunt Ruth said.

“Be kind or be LOST!” Harry snapped.

“Who’s he?” Aunt Ruth asked.

“My boyfriend, he protected me,” Gia said.

“So he might be a step better than your father, or worse,” Aunt Ruth said.

“Do I need to get security?” Uncle Marty asked Aunt Ruth.

“No, no,” Aunt Ruth said.

“How long have you been seeing him?” Trevor asked Gia, while pointing to Harry.

They kept talking, mostly with Gia and Trevor catching up. It went on for over an hour.

* * *

Meanwhile, Hermione stopped in the waiting room just after she and Ron had left Harry’s hospital room, used the phone.

“Hi Mom,” Hermione said, “Harry’s doing better, good, actually, so he’s talking and having visitors. … No, I doubt the doctors agreed to it, but you know Harry. … Love you.”

Hermione hung up. Ron held Hermione’s shoulders, moved his arms around her sides, held her back against his chest, slowly marched them out of the hospital into the sunshine; his hands held her breasts.

“I already got you off for the day,” Hermione said.

“So?” Ron said, “Worried about Harry?”

“It’s Harry, why should I be worried?” Hermione said, “When Madam Pomfrey’s worried, then I’ll worry.”

They stood on the grass, near the driveway of the hospital, cars came and left, driving by.

“He’s your friend,” Ron said, his hands crept, went down her stomach, felt the carpet of her pubic hair, his fingers massaged around the lace, his thumbs touched her hard point. “You were worried last night, as the muggles thought it lethal injuries, though he seems better.”

“He hasn’t even thought of how to explain it to the hospital,” Hermione said, “It wasn’t guaranteed to be fatal, Muggles have good health care, better understanding than we do, in some ways. You’re really trying.”

Ron’s fingers were teasing, massaging, inside her, feeling her walls, as the thumbs worked on her clitoris.

“Is it helping?” Ron said, “I mean, you don’t feel as tense.”

A black sedan parked in the patient pickup spot, the man had on a suit and tie, got out and went into the hospital.

“I…” Hermione couldn’t disagree, Ron’s fingers were doing the trick, the tension, the worries inside her, were melting as she felt the urge to bear down starting up as the familiar yellow sedan drove into the parking lot, parked.

Linda Granger came over.

“Just a moment,” Ron said, “She’s about to have her orgasm.”

“What…” Hermione stammered, trying to start a line to tell Ron to keep his mouth shut, but instead, the sensation grew, the tremors went through her body.

“There,” Ron said.

“Next time I’m about to—don’t advertise it!” Hermione snapped.

“Sorry,” Ron said, “Thought you had to finish it.”

“You didn’t have to tell my Mum that!” Hermione retorted.

“And Harry?” Linda asked.

“Inside,” Ron said, “This way.”

Ron and Hermione led her into the hospital.

* * *

“Well, if you excuse us,” Uncle Marty said, “We need to get book lodging.”

“Yeah,” Gia said.

Uncle Marty and Trevor left.

“I’ll see if this cafeteria rates this place even a one star,” Aunt Ruth said, “Likely not.”

Aunt Ruth left.

“Hello,” said the next voice to come in. In a black suit, with a tie, a white dress shirt, black suit trousers, and shined black shoes, came a large man, whose size would intimidate most; he held a manila folder in his hand.

“Uncle Milton!” Gia exclaimed.

“Hi Gia,” Uncle Milton said, “I just came over to get you.”

“Huh?” Gia asked, “Get me?”

“With your Dad’s suicide,” Uncle Milton said, “I’ve assumed custody.”

Harry’s IVs vanished.

“What?” Gia exclaimed, “Since when?”

“NO!!” Gia shouted.

Harry sprang from the bed, pulled on Gia’s arm, and dashed out the room. He ran naked, with only a couple of white bandages still on his chest. Uncle Milton’s hard shoes echoed the footsteps as he pursued. Two male police officers entered the intersection at the end of the corridor.

“It’s final!” Uncle Milton shouted and pointed, “Detain her officers!”

Both officers turned to see the scene. The rapidly approaching naked Harry, pulling Gia, and Uncle Milton.

“Stop!” the officer on the left commanded.

Harry glared, went around the corner into the next corridor. Both officers grabbed Uncle Milton and brought him to a halt. Gia followed, as they ran past the nurse’s station as Ron started to head inbound from the waiting room.

SMACK!

Harry and Ron collided, tumbled.

“We’re leaving,” Harry said as the pen on the desk signed Harry out, as against medical advice .

“What’s happening?” Hermione asked.

“No time, gotta go,” Harry said, “Mind getting my things?”

Linda Granger glanced at him.

“Hurry,” Gia said.

“It’s alright Mum,” Hermione said, “I know the way home.”

Harry caught a glimpse of Uncle Milton rounding a corner as they left the hospital. Linda started the car.

“I don’t understand,” Linda said.

“Go!” Harry said.

Linda drove the bright yellow car.

“What’s going on?” Linda asked.

“Barely know them,” Gia said, “Yet he thinks he owns me.”

Harry looked out the back, at the black sedan approaching behind them, tailgating, Uncle Milton behind the wheel, glaring.

“Ignore them,” Harry said.

Uncle Milton brought the car closer, flashed his brights, and laid into his car horn. Harry glared, and the black car began to sway, smoke from his tire, and came to fast halt.

“I need answers,” Linda said.

“Uncle Milton came in, claimed he had custody,” Gia said, “I’m SIXTEEN! I can make up my own mind about what I want to do.”

Linda handed Gia the mobile. “You need to sort this out immediately, as in right now,” Linda said, “I will not host juvenile delinquents. You can call my solicitor if you need a starting point.”

* * *

Harry and Gia approached 26 Oak an hour later.

“This was fast,” Gia said.

“You matter,” Harry said.

They approached the green door of an orange red brick house, it was detached from its neighbors, unusual for the neighborhood, but not unheard of, with four windows to the front, and a wooden fence around it. Gia knocked. Richard opened the door; he was barefoot while wearing a worn white T–shirt and blue shorts.

“Personally, I’d have put some clothes on if I were you,” Richard said, seeing that Gia and Harry were both naked, “But that’s your affair.”

“Didn’t have time to wait for that,” Gia said.

“Come in,” Richard said.

They entered the modest living room; a staircase on the immediate right, had a lower landing step before it turned to go up. On the left, halfway to the far left wall, the ceiling dropped a foot. In the middle, three couches were arranged into a square, finished by two metal chairs in front of the fireplace. Both chars were occupied, one by a chubby balding older male, the other by a middle aged woman, both were formally dressed. Harry sat cross–legged, Gia next to him, on the sofa across the coffee table from the chairs. Uncle Marty was already sitting on the sofa to their left, while Uncle Milton on the right, both glaring, both holding back from partaking of the tea on the table. Richard leaned against the wall with the stairs going up along it. Another man, one that neither Gia nor Harry recognized, was standing near the fireplace.

“I’m Andrew Haller; the solicitor in charge of Kevin Prescott’s estate,” the fat man said, “Kevin retained me a number of years ago for this eventuality. First, let’s introduce ourselves as we might not all be familiar with each other. I’ve been a practicing attorney for twenty years with experience in family matters and estates.”

The mid–age lady next to him said, “I’m June Kaylor and I’m from the Family Services Division of Social Welfare. For twenty five years, I have helped families in crisis and in the aftermath of tragedy. I’m the mother of three kids and grandmother to two, three as of yesterday.”

“Uncle Milton, Surrey.”

“Uncle Marty, Liverpool.”

“Richard Osborn, friend.”

“Kurt Osborn, father to Richard.” said the man leaning against the fireplace.

“Hi!” Gia waved.

“Harry Potter, Gia’s boyfriend.”

Harry figured the adults likely cared that he was naked, but it did emphasize that he was Gia’s boyfriend, and figured they’d rather move on with business that to worry about it.

“As I understand it—” Haller looked at his papers on the table “—Marty Prescott is handling the funeral arrangements. Is this correct?”

Uncle Marty nodded.

“I always let the families handle as much or little of that as they wish to,” Andrew said, “Assets will be handled in probate, at which point, I will collect my legal fees. Today, the custody of Miss. Prescott is in dispute, for which, I have brought in Ms. June Kaylor to assist matters.”

“Kevin Prescott failed to specify anything in his will,” June said, “Miss. Prescott has expressed a strong interest in her own well being, this is respectable and it must be considered, despite what her relatives wish. Let us start with you Miss. Prescott.”

“Harry—” Gia watched Harry’s ear grow a tad pink “—I’ve got friends here, school and such—”

“From that bog that Kevin called a home?” Milton spat, “Glad it’s gone—”

“Civility!” Kaylor snapped.

“Richard talked us into it,” Kurt said to Gia, “We can offer you space, and we’ll overlook the boyfriend sharing the bed thing.”

“June and I discussed the options, legally,” Haller said, “Relative—the easiest, adoption—impractical given the speed of the paperwork, orphanage—unlikely given the numbers here who’re willing, and emancipation—possible—” He saw Gia’s face “—it confers adult status on you a bit early.”

“Gia needs to be raised in a proper environment,” Uncle Milton stated.

“Same old bull, it gets tiring!” Uncle Marty said, “Repeatedly trying this dozens of times already—let her decide!”

“You’re full of it Prat!” Uncle Milton said, “Besides, it’s not a dozen—”

“Quiet!” Harry shouted, standing fast to his feet, “This is about her, not your egos!”

Harry walked, with determination, tugged on Mr. Haller’s suit; Haller followed, past a staircase leading down, into a dining room, and turned right into a small study where Harry pulled the doors closed. Mr. Haller studied this naked teenage boy, a collar bone below average height, a confident boy unconcerned to the explicitness of the exposure.

“They’re being nutters!” Harry said, “We need a resolution. Tell me about this emancipation thing.”

Meanwhile, in the living room, the bickering continued; while June slipped to the study.

“Kevin couldn’t care less about his daughter!” Uncle Milton said, “Sure, it may have been your family home growing up, doesn’t mean he took care of it and it fell apart!”

“Kevin was a good man who made some mistakes,” Uncle Marty said, “That doesn’t negate his wishes, and I’m sure those wishes don’t include _YOU_!”

Richard sat on the sofa next to Gia.

“This sucks,” Richard said.

“A lifetime of abuse isn’t a mistake, it’s a choice!” Uncle Milton said, “What psychedelic was he on? Does it matter? He tried to murder his daughter, a daughter that’s result of him raping Ruth’s sister. Ruth’s sister didn’t want that man having custody of Gia eleven years ago, and it’s true today! That man wasn’t fit, but we can provide a good home.”

“Have you bothered to ask Gia first? Or did you just march in and treat her like an infant?” Uncle Marty asked.

“The law treats her the same,” Uncle Milton said, “We’re her best family—”

“QUIET!” Harry announced, returning with Mr. Haller and June following, “We have a proposal, Gia.”

Uncle Marty and Uncle Milton looked at Harry; Gia glared. June sat down in her chair, while Harry returned to Gia.

“You didn’t ask me,” Gia said to Harry.

“I think you’ll like this,” Harry said.

“Your boyfriend spoke eloquently on your behalf,” June said to Gia, “If you accept, we’ll petition for emancipation on one condition, you continue attending school to finish your studies. In the meanwhile, I’m assigning temporary custody to Kurt and Kristen Osborn so you can remain here, in Noigate, with your friends and classmates. Is this acceptable?”

Gia studied Harry’s grin for a moment.

“Yes,” Gia said.

“And my advice is to not let go of that boyfriend,” June said, winking.

“Good,” Richard said, while picking at his toenail, “Ant needs a big sister around, show you around?”

“Need to get my stuff,” Gia said.

“I’ll still be here,” Richard said.

“That was an interesting solution,” Uncle Marty said to Gia, “Moving is tough, so I understand. Um, if you want to come to Liverpool, we’d be happy for a visit, or a stay.”

“Maybe next summer,” Gia said.

“I’m only trying to consider your best interests,” Uncle Milton said.

“Try harder,” Gia said.

Uncles Marty and Milton left, separately.

“We’ll get the paperwork submitted first thing in the morning,” Haller said before he left along with June.

“Best be going, break the news to Hermione that their spare room is once again, available,” Harry said.

Gia stood up, Harry followed, and they left the house.

“Thank you,” Gia said, his swaying penis caught her eye.

“You needed the help,” Harry said, “Two days ago, your father took us to Surrey! He’s dead, I figured you’re a bit stressed out. Besides, there’s more.”

Gia studied his face for a moment, before they stopped, and he turned to face her, a grin on his face, the bottle green eyes looking up to hers.

“Same thing applies to me,” Harry said.

* * *

“What do you mean, _emancipation_?” Sirius demanded of Harry. They were in the spare bedroom at Hermione’s, the one that Harry and Gia had been using.

“I can’t fucking list you as a guardian, now, can I?” Harry said, his eyes looking up to the sullen eyes of his godfather, “Nobody will approve _that_.”

“You’re shorter than James,” Sirius said as he paced, “You’re outdoing him. Moony wrote about some near–death experience so I canceled the errand I was running for Professor Dumbledore.”

“Sorry,” Harry said, “It wasn’t such a big thing, a bit over–hyped.”

Harry paced as he explained the bomb, hands wide, hands close, hands on his bare buttocks, hands on his back, uncaring to the skin that showed, from his armpits to his testicles.

“That’s not a small thing,” Sirius said.

“It made Gia an orphan,” Harry said, “Big fight between her relatives, none of which was good for her, so, the option came up, and I realized it was good for me too.”

“What have your Aunt and Uncle said about this?” Sirius started to ask.

“They’re dead,” Harry said, sitting. He explained Privet Drive.

“Oh,” Sirius said, “I know the Dursleys bore a callous attitude toward the Potters, however, your parents would be sad to hear of their passing. Lily’s regret was that magic drove a wedge between her and her sister, something she wanted to make amends with, but wasn’t given the time those things typically require.”

“All _emancipation_ does is make legal what I have been doing,” Harry said, “Making decisions for myself, just means I don’t have to ask some stranger for consent. You are still my godfather, regardless of what the law says, you’re still family.”

“Thank you Harry James Potter,” Sirius said, “Write Professor Dumbledore immediately—”

Harry glared. Sirius studied the bottle green looking at him.

“Downside is you can’t blame the Dursleys anymore,” Sirius said.

Harry snorted. “Only downside there is—”

“This stuff gets published, so what of Gia?” Sirius asked.

“Her safety is important, very important,” Harry said, “Which is why you’ll be following her, all the time.”

“What? Did you think to ask me first?” Sirius asked.

“I need it, she needs it,” Harry said, “I’m not always around, I need to study at Hogwarts because people think I’ll have to fight Voldemort. I don’t want to be facing him while also having to be worrying about keeping her _safe_ , because I do love her.”

Sirius studied the face of the sixteen year old teenager in front of him, the scar, the bottle green eyes watching, pleading; Harry’s growing erection to emphasize his last point.

“Where are your glasses?” Sirius asked.

“Destroyed—” Harry said.

Knock! Knock!

“Harry,” Hermione said as she opened the door, “Some reporter—”

“Send them packing!” Harry replied, “Tell them Surrey, or Catchpole, or Brum!”

“That won’t work,” Hermione said, “Sorry. My Mum accidentally spilled—she tried not to, but reporters—”

“I won’t take this.” Harry stormed out of the room.

Harry glanced over the ledge of the balcony in the vaulted Granger living room, the cameraman was aimed at the kitchen doorway, and the staircase could be seen on the telly, live. With a push on the balcony, Harry leapt, crashed onto the cameraman—static showed for a brief moment on the telly, only to be replaced by the smoldering wreckage of the hospital. Dennis, the reporter, glared at Harry.

“This just in—” the anchor said.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Harry yelled, “BLIMEY! NOTHING GIVES YOU THE DAMN RIGHT—WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF?! INVADING MY PRIVACY?! I DON’T WANT THE FUCKING PUBLICITY!” He flipped Dennis off.

“The people have a right to the truth!” Dennis shouted.

“WE SHOULD FILM YOUR DICK!!” Harry yelled, “THEY HAVE A RIGHT—”

“You are trespassing,” Charles Granger informed Dennis, “Leave immediately, the police have been summoned.”

“People got killed and you survived!” Dennis yelled, “They need to—!”

“BUGGER!” Harry yelled, “FUCKING MORON PRYING—BUZZ OFF!”

Harry spun around, bent over, and mooned Dennis, from where a second camera was aimed, which is why Harry’s bare arse appeared on the telly, in full detail, including a need to wipe. A moment later, the picture was replaced by a test pattern.

“See what you just did?” Dennis yelled, “We get penalties for that type of stuff.”

“YOUR OWN FAULT FOR FILMING WITHOUT MY CONSENT!” Harry yelled.

“—serious situation,” the news anchor said, “Noigate Hospital leveled with many casualties—”

“SEE WHAT YOU FUCKING DID?!” Harry yelled, pointing to the telly.

Charles opened the front door.

“Your moment of fame—” Dennis yelled.

“GOOD!” Harry shoved Dennis out, and Charles closed the door.

“You clearly didn’t like them,” Charles said.

“I’ve had more than enough fame for a lifetime,” Harry replied.

* * *

Ron helped Harry bring the trunk in from the boot of Linda’s bright yellow automobile into 26 Oak, setting it down in the living room.

“Well, good luck Mate,” Ron said.

“It’s just across town,” Harry said, “I’ll be over tomorrow morning.”

“Gia, you’ll always be welcome,” Linda said.

Linda and Ron went back to the car. Harry stepped over Snuffles, the Animagus form of Sirius Black, who laid outside on the front step. Richard came down the stairs into the living room, just after Harry closed the door; Richard was barefooted, barechested, with plaid blue boxers, which was overdressed when compared with Harry’s and Gia’s nudity.

“Well,” Richard said, “You need the tour.”

Richard, a couple of inches taller than Harry, went along the wall of the stairs, took the sharp turn to the set of stairs leading down. They descended down into the basement; in the middle was a general storage, with plenty of boxes, a work area over tot he left, and a laundry with toilet in the far corner. They walked over to the work area, where a work bench had numerous disassembled electronics and projects. Harry picked up a small circuit board with funny pieces mounted on the firm green plastic–like board; however, it was all fuzzy to him.

“Aw,” Richard said, “Variable Frequency Oscillator.”

“Huh?” Harry muttered.

“He’s into amateur radio,” Gia said.

“Don’t quite understand it,” Harry said, “But you seem to know it.”

Harry placed the circuit back onto the bench. They went past the furnace and water heater, before returning up the stairs. Richard closed the door, and they went right, into the dining room, and right into the study.

“Quiet place, when you need it,” Richard said.

He turned around, nipples forward, and walked around the dining table, turned left, into a kitchen.

“Mum complains it could be bigger,” Richard said, “Maybe a conservatory out back, but it works. Even has a small spare toilet.”

“Three?” Gia asked.

“Yep,” Richard said.

They turned left, past a spiral stairs, back into the living room; this time, the fireplace was to their immediate left. Richard’s thighs flexed as he crossed the living room, around the sofas, back to the stairs leading up, and they went up. At the top was a small landing with five doorways and four doors, the one directly at the end led to the upstairs toilet; the other four were angled to face the center of the landing.

“Who the fuck, Dickhead?” asked a fourteen year old girl inside the room to the immediate hard right from the landing, it was a cluttered room without a door, and a rather lumpy blanket on the bed.

“That’s Ant,” Richard said, “My _baby_ sister.”

“I’m Andrea!” Andy said, to Harry and Gia, “Or, Andy, if you prefer.”

“Call me Richard, not Dickhead!” Richard retorted to Andy.

“Strange,” Andy said, “You show your dick–head to Jenital at every opportunity.”

Richard punched her on the arm.

“Gawking at Stephen’s?” Richard said, “He’s on your bed, isn’t he?”

“No,” Andy said.

“Liar,” Richard retorted.

“Fuck you,” Andy said, returning to her green painted bedroom.

Richard pointed to the next room on the right, in the back corner, next to the lavatory, it too, was a cluttered room.

“Your room, now,” Richard said, “It’s getting cleared—some tonight.”

Gia pushed inward enough to see the myriad of boxes, books, and clothing littering the floor and covering the bed. Richard went in, gave an unceremonious shove using the duvet for assistance, the stuff on the double wide bed tumbled to the floor.

“Has that lived in look,” Gia said as they returned to the landing, “Not that I’m complaining, mine was reduced to rubble in the spring.”

“It was short notice,” Richard said, “Still, it’ll motivate Mum and Dad. Dad’s likely trying to sleep—” he pointed to the door to the immediate left of the bathroom “—and mine is here.”

Richard opened the door to the left of his parents, into a dark blue. While this room was cluttered, it had a different flare. A girl was sitting on the bed, painting.

“My bird, Jen,” Richard said.

Gia moved over, to see the painting that Jen kept Richard from seeing, one of a nude Richard with a lasso twirling in the hand.

“Fascinating,” Gia said.

“I wanna see it,” Richard said.

“It’s not ready,” Jen replied.

Harry, though, glanced around at the many plastic models, however, his eyes fixed onto one dangling from the ceiling.

“MIR space station,” Richard said.

“Cool,” Harry said.

Gia went to the sliding glass door, it led to a roof deck, a hot tub was on it.

“Accessible from here or from Mum and Dad’s,” Richard said, “Even some portable blinders for sanctuary.”

Richard walked them through the open door onto the deck. Gia moved past the blinders, seeing how they’d obscure the view from the sides. Richard sat on top of the spa.

“Welcome to the family, with it comes great responsibility,” Richard said, “First, it is acceptable to be less than decent—something you’ve already taken to doing. Second, never make your bed. Third, your floor can be your cupboard. This is now your home too—so do not act like a guest. Finally, treat Ant with disrespect.” Richard smiled. “Now, your moon shot—brilliant!”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “Shove a camera at me—”

“Mum deals with them all the time,” Richard said, “Betchya she laughed. Though she’s working.”

“Odd hours?” Gia asked.

“Chief of Police and the hospital collapsed with plenty of people dead?” Richard said, “She’s definitely at work dealing with it.”

“It was standing this morning,” Harry said.

“Of course it was,” Richard said, “Mum’ll talk about it when she gets home, though, I do wonder why it collapsed.”

* * *

“An intriguing plan,” said the man with red–slitted eyes, standing in front of a slow burning fireplace, green images of two floating above it, “Given your goal, a Quidditch analogy is fitting. Though I expect I will be disappointed, am I right, Keeper? Seeker?”

“I am ready,” the Seeker promised.

“I doubt you are,” the man said, “I want Harry Potter.”

“Forgive me, my Lord,” the Keeper said, “We can use Harry Potter, alive, for now, to get you the power that rightfully belongs to you.”

“It means delays,” Voldemort said.

“Potter deserves what he’s about to get,” the Seeker said, “What he has already gotten—that Muggle Hospital was a bit of a quirk, but one that I managed.”

“Even the Muggles are not that daft,” the Keeper said to the Seeker, “Focus on the plan, Hogwarts.”

“Yes,” the Seeker replied.

“Yet Harry Potter stays alive,” Voldemort said.

“You gave me new life to pursue this,” the Keeper said, “By the end, _every_ Wizard and Witch will be begging you to dispose of Harry Potter and his allies; and you will mercifully grant it. You will have no resistance.”


	12. Joke Shop

Harry and Gia were woken Wednesday morning, by fourteen year old Andy, jumping on the bed. Right above Harry, Andy’s bare knockers swung up and down.

“What the fuck?!” Harry demanded.

“Ant!” Richard shouted, coming toward the open bedroom door.

“Look at them!” Andy protested, pointing downward at Harry’s hard erection jutting straight up.

Both Harry and Gia were in their usual skin uniforms.

“Like you’re one to judge!” Richard said, glaring at his sister in just a pair of light green panties, “Let them _SLEEP_!”

Andy jumped off the bed, pulled down Richard’s boxers exposing his circumcised penis beneath brown pubic hair, and shoved. Richard fell backward onto his rear.

Kristen came out of her room; dressed in a nightgown.

“Andrea Osborn,” Kristen said, “You are on restriction!”

“He started it!” Andy protested, pointing to Richard, with tears flowing down her face.

“Your bedroom, NOW!” Kristen said, her glare caused Andy to back into her green bedroom, the one lacking a door. “Stephen is to leave.”

“Mum!” Andy protested.

“Sorry about that,” Kristen said into Gia’s room, “Good morning.” Kristen turned her glare back to Andy’s retreat into her bedroom, while the lump beneath the blankets on the bed hurriedly dressed; trousers, a shirt, sucked in by the person below the sheets.

Quickly, a brown haired Stephen Stewart, younger brother to a recently deceased classmate of Gia’s, was red faced as he left Andy’s bedroom, went down the stairs. Kristen returned to her bedroom; Richard went into his.

Naked, Harry and Gia went down the stairs; made the hard right, and right, to enter the dining room. Kurt Osborn was there, fork to a plate with fruit and pancakes on it; his eyes moved to see the two enter.

“Glad to see you’ve already made yourself at home,” Kurt said between bites.

“It’s kind of you,” Gia said.

“Relax, you’re part of the family now,” Kurt said, “I made a bunch, keeping them warm in the oven, help yourself.”

Harry and Gia went into the kitchen. Harry grabbed the syrup bottle, held it near Gia’s chest.

“Blimey,” Gia said, “Going mental?”

“Nah, just wondering,” Harry said, fiddling with the cap while holding the bottle upside down over her left boob.

“Let’s not test their generosity with a food fight,” Gia said, holding a jar a jelly over his head.

“Smoother you with syrup?” Harry asked, pushing his stiffening erection against her skin.

“Heh,” Gia said, “Doctor said a week, so I’m sticking with that.”

“Madam Pomfrey—” Harry started.

“Has she cleared your todger?” Gia asked.

“No,” Harry said, drearily.

“They had to cut you open,” Gia said, “I want to keep you, so we’re heeding his advice, alright?”

“I guess so,” Harry said.

“Now, lets get you fed,” Gia said, handing Harry a plate.

Gia pilled on a small stack of pancakes, added on some slices of bacon, before grabbing a plat for herself. They carried them into the dining room. Harry sat on the deep green padded leather of the wooden dining chair, his bollocks hung over the edge; Gia sat to the other side. Harry watched Gia dribbling the syrup onto his pancakes, he imagined it flowing across the smooth skin of her boobs instead.

“Oh,” Kurt said, “We’ll expect some help around the house, can you handle that?”

Harry watched Gia’s face.

“Suppose it’s fair,” Harry said.

“Nothing major, just dishes and light cleaning,” Kurt said, “From the yelling earlier, Andrea will be taking care of most of it today, tomorrow, and maybe for the next week.”

“Are Richard and Ant always like that?” Gia asked.

“I know something’s wrong if I don’t hear them fighting by nine in the morning,” Kurt said.

An hour later, Snuffles followed Harry and Gia as they left the house; they walked along. Harry’s unkempt hair covered his scar, he held Gia’s hand, his penis remained soft as he walked. Both Harry and Gia kept an eye on Snuffles running around, first checking out a car, then the fire hydrant.

“You make a good hound,” Harry said toward Snuffles.

They walked over a small footbridge over a creek; Snuffles plunged into the water, came back out, stood right in front of Harry and Gia; Snuffles shook vibrantly, flinging water at Harry.

“Cut that out,” Harry said before he smiled, “If the doggy wants a bath, I’m sure we can find the most embarrassing—”

Snuffles lunged toward Harry, knocking Harry backward onto his butt on the grass; Snuffles towered over Harry, growled.

“If you’re going to be like that,” Harry said, “We could stop by the vet, get you fixed.”

Snuffles whimpered loudly, put his tail between his legs to tightly guard things, and moped off. Gia gave Harry a hand in getting back up, and she was chuckling.

“You two can be so funny,” Gia said.

“I’m sure Snuffles will find more ways,” Harry said, “After which, he’ll need a flea bath tonight.”

Snuffles whimpered, Gia laughed.

“So, you’re wanting to visit a pet store?” Gia asked.

Harry laughed as Gia led him along.

“Maybe,” Harry replied, his arms wide as he skipped.

Harry jumped onto a low stone retaining wall lining the walk, squatted, faced the trail. Gia’s eyes traced the penis hanging forward, the bollocks that also bared themselves. Gia stopped in front of him; her right hand saddled his balls into her palm, and they became a bit pinker. His penis stiffened, engorging itself as she watched. He smiled.

“I told you, I’m following doctor’s orders,” Gia said.

Harry whimpered, Snuffles growled.

“Keep it quick then,” Harry said.

“I’m not stressing you out, and that’s final,” Gia said, “Though—” She leaned in, kissed his lips. “You’ll manage, like you did before we met.”

“Dull, drab,” Harry replied.

“Find another way,” Gia said, “I mean it.”

“Fine,” Harry said, “Keep holding.”

Harry’s hand held his hard erection, his stroked, letting his foreskin slip. His eyes roamed her smooth skin, studying her vagina for a moment, her breasts hanging out, before his eyes focused on her tongue, a blurry tongue reminding him of what she’d like to be doing to him. Her tongue moved rapidly, in and out, keeping pace with his strokes. He tensed up, she pulled her hand back to cup it in front of him; his bollocks swing freely. Harry aimed his hardness as his pearly off white semen poured out of his slit, catching in her cupped hand. He wiped his tip on her thumb.

“Better?” Gia asked, feeling his slightly contracted testicles.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“Understand this, I want you healthy and well,” Gia said, “If they say no sex, I’ll stick with it.”

“Accidents come my way,” Harry said, jumping off the wall, “They simply do.”

“Then this—” Gia held her handful of his hot liquid up for him to see “—should motivate you to avoid those accidents.”

Harry watched as she tipped her hand, his cum moved along her fingers.

“Should be a reward for getting better,” Harry said.

“Better to not get hurt than it is to have to heal,” Gia said, “Come, lets go.”

Before Harry could protest, her hand joined his, held on, trapping his seed between the pads of their hands.

“Ew,” Harry muttered as they walked. Snuffles came back, roamed in front of them for a short while.

“You want to put that inside _me_ ,” Gia said, “Remember that.”

Harry glanced about.

“Hey, thought we were heading to Hermione’s,” Harry said.

“Nope, you’ve got an appointment,” Gia said.

“Appointment?” Harry asked, stopping in his tracks.

“Your glasses were destroyed, and I figure you’d need a new pair,” Gia said.

“I’d like to try without them,” Harry said.

“How many strands of hair do I have?” Gia asked.

“Dunno, lots,” Harry said.

“Lets get you fitted up,” Gia said, “You need those glasses replaced.”

Harry kept his scowl, but followed, slowly. Gia tugged on his arm, and Harry sped a bit back up, but slow enough to make Gia pull him along. They crossed an intersection, Harry tripped on the curb, but caught his balance to recover.

“Get my point?” Gia asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “Guess I do.”

They walked along High Street, came to the optometrist’s office, where Harry stopped.

“You need them if you wanna see my boobs in full clarity,” Gia said.

Gia opened the door, pulled Harry in, and they approached the desk with the lady receptionist behind it.

“Have a nine thirty appointment,” Gia said, “His old glasses were broken.”

Gia took the forms, filled them out for Harry, and they sat down on several chairs. Harry trembled; she reached over, caressed his ears. She glanced at his penis, idle.

“It’s a simple thing, the exam,” Gia said.

“I know,” Harry muttered.

“Harry?” asked a girl from the hallway, she had on a white lab coat.

Gia escorted Harry up; the girl’s eyes looked him over, from the chest to the soft todger hanging between his legs, as Harry approached. They went down the small corridor, into a small office. Gia guided Harry onto the patient chair before she sat on a metal folding one. An slightly overweight with a potbelly optometrist of average height, a Dr. Purdy, entered the room, and laid open manila folder onto the counter.

“How long since your previous exam?” Dr. Purdy asked.

“Dunno,” Harry said, “Maybe six or seven years, can’t remember exactly.”

“So, contacts or glasses?” Dr. Purdy asked.

“Um…” Harry muttered.

“Those glasses were distinctive,” Gia said, “Might try the contacts.”

“Think it over,” Dr. Purdy said, “So—” he moved the retinoscope to Harry “—tell me, better or worse.”

Over the next ten minutes, Dr. Purdy adjusted the dials, as Harry repeated, before settling on the correction factor.

“And, glasses or contacts?” Dr. Purdy asked.

“Contacts,” Harry said.

“I still recommend a pair of glasses,” Dr. Purdy said, “Good as a backup, you shouldn’t wear contacts all the time, and, if you want a basic pair, we can have them ready shortly.”

Gia nodded.

“Yes,” Harry said.

Dr. Purdy took several measurements.

“Let me get this to the optician,” Dr. Purdy said, jotting down a note onto a separate form, “And follow me.”

Dr. Purdy led them out, across the corridor, indicating for them to wait; left.

“Feels weird,” Harry said.

“New looks,” Gia said, her hand massaged his scrotum.

Dr. Purdy returned, brought Harry to another machine, measuring the curvature of his eyes.

“Glass or disposables?” Dr. Purdy said, “Glass is cheaper so long as you clean them.”

“Disposables,” Harry said.

Dr. Purdy jotted this down.

“It’ll take probably take fifteen to thirty minutes after you select the frames,” Dr. Purdy said, “You can schedule an appointment in a week—”

“Another appointment?” Harry asked.

“Supervise and train you up on using the contacts,” Dr. Purdy said, “They’ll be here in a week.”

“I’ve got school next week!” Harry said.

“We can rush the order, for a fee, naturally,” Dr. Purdy said, “Be ready sometime tomorrow.”

“Done,” Harry said.

Dr. Purdy led them back to the front; where they went through the limited selection of frames.

“Like your old ones,” Gia said, pulling out a pair of round spectacles.

“Cheapest ones, like the Dursleys would buy,” Harry said.

“And they were the ones that helped me fall in love with you,” Gia said, “Besides, just a backup, cheap means it’s easier if they’re busted, again.”

“True,” Harry said.

Harry put the frames on the desk, Dr. Purdy went back, while they waited.

Ring! Ring!

Gia reached to Harry’d butt, pulled her mobile out of his ass. She brought the phone to her ear.

“Hello?” Gia said, “Hi! … Yes! … I think I could. Harry’d be happy … understood, yep. See you shortly. I’m on High Street, in about thirty minutes. Later.”

“And?” Harry asked.

“Uncle Marty wanted to visit,” Gia said.

“He’s the good one, right?” Harry asked.

“I don’t see him often,” Gia said, “I mean, he’s normally all the way in Liverpool! So, can you survive the day without me?”

“Huh?” Harry asked.

“It’d be a bit crowded, besides, thought you wanted to study with Ron and Hermione,” Gia said.

“I wouldn’t say _want_ to study,” Harry said, “Though I suppose I ought to.”

“I’ll miss you too,” Gia said.

Harry stepped closer, kissed. His hands massaged her breasts. Gia sat, laid down across the chairs, Harry got on top of her, held her. Her hands worked his butt.

“No sex,” Gia muttered.

“Kissing allowed?” Harry asked.

“Sure,” Gia said.

Harry kept it up, working his tongue onto hers.

“Ready,” said the receptionist, a short while later.

Harry got up, walked over, put the glasses on.

“Whoa!” Harry said, “Much better than the old ones.”

“Eight years?” Gia said, “To sixteen, that’s a lot of time, your eyes must’ve changed.”

“Guess so,” Harry said.

Harry paid for them.

“There they are,” Gia said, rushing for the door.

Harry followed a moment later, as Uncle Marty and Cousin Trevor came up to them; Snuffles was nearby, trying to bite into a car bumper.

“Nice meeting you again,” Uncle Marty said to Harry.

“He needs to study for school,” Gia said.

“I’ll see you later,” Harry said, giving Gia another kiss.

Harry took the few steps, made his way toward the familiar house.

* * *

Harry entered Hermione’s house, her eyes were on him from her spot next to the coffee table; Ron stood nearby.

“You’re naked!” Hermione said.

“So are you, and me,” Ron said, “Thought that’s what you wanted, your handsome blokes of friends, _unmasked_.”

“To go to Diagon Alley like that?” Hermione asked.

“So soon?” Harry said, “We can do that tomorrow.”

“Good, so that means you’ve got your books,” Hermione said, “Well, you can work on your essay on incubation of dragon eggs.”

“Let the dragon do it,” Harry said.

“Brilliant!” Ron exclaimed.

“We’ll go tomorrow,” Harry said, “Or Friday, I mean, you’ve got the books already.”

“And mark up mine?” Hermione said, before her eyes turned to Ron with a quill, “Quit that!”

“Actually my trunk’s back over at Gia’s,” Harry said, pointing to the door, his armpit hair showing, “I’ll be back, later.”

“The best use of your time would be to simply go to Diagon Alley,” Hermione said.

“Lets see how you take care of dragon eggs,” Harry said, sitting down by the coffee table, his buttocks spread out on the carpet.

“I’ll be—just a moment,” Hermione said, getting up. She walked over to the fireplace, threw in some Floo Powder.

“You know, it’d be easier to send her with the list,” Ron said to Harry.

“I wanted to bring Gia,” Harry said, “She’s out with her Uncle now.”

“Aw, I was wondering,” Ron said.

An brown owl swooped in, dropped an envelope, a red envelope, addressed to Harry.

“Who’d send me a Howler?” Harry asked, taking the envelope.

“You’ve been walking around naked all summer?” Hermione said, “Plenty of people, I’d expect.”

“You’re naked, and so am I!” Ron said.

“We’re all in this together,” Harry said.

“Well,” Ron said, “Open it.”

Harry opened it.

Mr. Harry Potter, you are formally invited to visit 93 Diagon Alley; bring your best friend and enjoy the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes experience of a lifetime!

“Those bloody menaces,” Ron said, grabbing the letter, “Dressing an advert up as a Howler!”

“Cheers,” Hermione said.

Ron and Harry felt the customary jerk at the naval, the letter pulled them out of Noigate, through the air, and dropped them onto a hard oak floor. Two red haired individuals, a Fred and a George, looking down on the two naked friends.

“Bloody Hell!” Ron said, “You snakes!”

“I’m guessing Hermione was in on this,” Harry said, standing up.

Harry glanced around at the shop, multiple floors, with lights, noises, and plenty of others, young and old, looking about. Harry became very conscious that he was naked, and these were not strangers; instead, they were people who’d recognize his scar, these were classmates who went to Hogwarts, one misstep and his naked body becomes The Daily Prophet’s front page along with complete measurements into Witch Weekly .

“Not as dimwitted as she claims you to be Harry,” Fred said, “As you were procrastinating, and we, having your best interests at heart—”

Ron snorted.

“But we do,” George said, “That and we needed somebody to test out that advert; thank you for volunteering.”

“A warning would’ve been nice,” Harry said.

“Keep calm, collect your school supplies, hang out, and go back,” Fred said, “Or, we’ll yell out, ‘Harry Potter’, and see how well you fare.”

“You wouldn’t—” Harry started.

“Don’t try us,” George said, “I’d recommend a visit to Quality Quidditch Supplies first, though too bad you didn’t bring your brooms, you could’ve gotten them autographed.”

“Let’s go,” Ron seethed.

“You can borrow this,” Fred said, handing a familiar backpack over to Harry.

Harry took the backpack, left the shop, and slung it over his shoulders; Ron grabbed the one from George, followed and they walked onto the cobblestone street of Diagon Alley.

“Those weasels,” Ron said, “We were about to come!”

“Yep,” Harry said, “Hermione was definitely in on it, otherwise, why’d they have our backpacks?”

Ron halted, pinkness swelled on his face; a young witch, in front of them, stared. A quick flicker of the eyes and Harry saw the issue, as Ron’s flesh engorged itself, ratcheting upward, as a show to the young witch watching Ron pop a stiffy.

“Gotta go back,” Ron said, fully primed, hard erection jutting outward.

“Lets just get this over with,” Harry said, feeling the same as Ron.

Straps on their bare shoulders, across their pects, as they started up the alley. They noticed black hair, a lot of jet black hair as they walked along; every third to fourth person was wearing black hair along with the familiar round glasses.

“You know, it may be a bit easier to blend in,” Ron said.

“Blend in?” Harry said, “We’re **NAKED**!”

“Glad that blast didn’t affect your eyesight,” Ron said.

“Cross our fingers and hope for the best,” Harry said, “Unless you really want to bind that thing into some stupid bit of underwear.”

“Guess there is that,” Ron said, fondling his loose testicles.

“Need me to suck that?” Harry asked.

“No,” Ron said, his hand gripped his cock, began to stroke.

“That explains it,” Harry said, pointing to UHP Gift Shop , where a dangling banner hung across Diagon Alley proclaiming Harry Potter Look Alike Day! ”

“Great to know when I’m tossing off in the street!” Ron said.

“Suppose we could’ve found a loo,” Harry said, facing Ron, eyes down on the hard erection below the red pubic hair.

“Fun,” Ron said, coldly, before pausing.

Ron pushed down as the first sputtering squirt came, he ejaculated, and the wad of semen sailed an inch below Harry’s loose testicles, between his legs.

“Thank you for your consideration,” Harry said.

“After you complained about it,” Ron said.

“I wasn’t complaining,” Harry said, “Done?”

“Yeah,” Ron said, the softening cock kept dribbling a bit.

“Let’s move,” Harry said.

They moved along, until stopped by a crowd in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies . On an elevated platform in front of the store was a brown and long haired individual.

“Whitehorn!” Ron exclaimed.

Eyes, scowling eyes, burned into Harry and Ron.

“Yes,” Whitehorn said, “There is always a prototype, some work, some do not. As to the Firebolt, it will prove to be the best broom for quite some time; you will not be dissatisfied with this broom.”

“And we have a pair,” Ron whispered, referring to the broom that Sirius had given him during the previous year.

“Will it be discounted?” one gentlemen asked.

“No,” the shop keeper, standing near Whitehorn, said.

“How fast can your fastest prototype go?” a lady asked, her pink clothes fluttered and a quill moved.

“Let’s go,” Harry muttered.

They moved along, around this crowd and the small one around Fourish and Blotts , to pass into Gringotts Wizarding Bank .

“Don’t have the key—” Ron muttered.

“Then stay here,” Harry said, “Got enough for things?”

“Yes,” Ron snapped.

Ron followed Harry into the cart with the goblin; the cart moved along the maze of tracks until it came to a stop in front of Vault 687.

“Don’t look,” Harry stated.

After grabbing it out of his arse, Harry gave his key and the goblin opened the vault. Ron looked over Harry’s shoulder as coins tumbled into the purse. Harry shoved the purse into his arse as the goblin closed the vault door, and moved the cart forward. Harry watched Ron’s face as they returned to the surface and left Gringotts Wizarding Bank .

“Not again!” Harry grumbled.

“Must be—” Ron exclaimed.

“You came!” Harry snapped.

“You can buy Hogwarts!” Ron replied. He glared at Harry before looking away, he slumped his arms against his chest.

“Fine sour puss,” Harry said.

Ron wandered off while Harry went into Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions .

“We normally don’t get customers immediately ready to try the merchandise,” said the squat witch, Madam Malkin, with her flowing hair changing colors, rotating between lighter pinks, purples, blues, and an occasional green, as she approached Harry.

“Long story,” Harry said, “Simply more comfortable, but I’ve got school.”

“Hogwarts, of course,” Madam Malkin said, her eyes roving until they landed on the loose genitals dangling before her, “Completely daring would be to take the train like that.”

“Wasn’t planning on that,” Harry said, “Though, I seem to go through uniforms.”

“Of course,” Madam Malkin said, “So, why is this more comfortable than being dressed?”

“Must I state the obvious?” Harry said, holding his scrotum.

“Aw, the boy problem,” Madam Malkin said, “Come this way.”

Harry knew he wasn’t the only customer, wondered if Madam Malkin was catering to him because of his name, or just being regular customer service. Madam Malkin brought him to a rack toward the back, held out a pair of white briefs.

“Try these on,” Madam Malkin said.

Harry lowered them down, stepped into them, and pulled the briefs up. His skin crawled, the sensation of the woven cloth against his buttocks felt foreign to him, but his testicles felt free. His hand moved to the front of him, where it fell through, to flatness.

“What?” Harry stammered, “Where—?”

“Still there,” Madam Malkin said as Harry quickly removed the briefs, “Rather than a regular…pocket, it hides while giving plenty of room.” She demonstrated, putting her hand where Harry’s dick had been, pushing inward, but the outside didn’t budge.

“I’m not looking to hide,” Harry said, “I want my girlfriend to see 'em, know it’s still there.”

“I do appreciate your confidence in showing it to me,” Madam Malkin said, “Too many wizards exaggerate, only to complain that it doesn’t fit right. Lie to me and it’s going to hurt.”

“I spent the summer like this,” Harry said.

“Don’t encourage that, it’d be bad for business,” Madam Malkin said, grabbing another pair, handing them over.

Harry put these on, they felt roomy, glanced down, exact contours as the cloth hugged his skin.

“Too close,” Harry said, “Reminds me of…” He tried to expel the memory, Aunt Petunia insisting to inspect the fit when he’d try on a pair, only to have him reseal the package to put back onto the shelf; she would always get him two, at most, two pairs at a time, and that was only after the others would nearly be disintegrated. “How about none?”

“So, just roomy is fine?” Madam Malkin asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “I’d probably need the wardrobe.”

“Your trousers would need modifications,” Madam Malkin said, “Otherwise it’s the same issue. On a Wednesday, with the back orders, Sunday is the soonest I can promise.”

“Train’s on Sunday,” Harry said, “I’d be on my way to Hogwarts.”

“Any casual wear?” Madam Malkin asked.

“I’ll send for some later,” Harry said, not wanting to disappoint her, because he figured Gia would want a say in that.

“I need some measurements, exact measurements,” Madam Malkin said, “Keep me from having to guess.”

“Okay,” Harry said.

“This includes everything,” Madam Malkin said, bringing the tape measure to his penis, “Alright with it?”

“Yeah, get it over with,” Harry said.

Her fingers moved the tape, measured from his pubic hair, along the softness, to the tip of his foreskin. She lifted it, measured the circumference around the shoulder of the glans. She moved to his scrotum, making every measurement that could be made; including the width, the depth, the height of each testicle, before she tickled his foreskin and his erection stiffened.

“Better than your lying about it,” Madam Malkin said.

Again, she measured, length, girth, before retracting the foreskin.

“Now you’re just playing,” Harry said.

“It’ll be a better fit,” Madam Malkin said, her tape measure now moving itself to other parts of him, from his toes, to his feet, to his legs, to his chest, to his arms, to his neck, and to his face. “That and it likes to get everything.”

“Don’t doubt it,” Harry said as the tape began measuring inside his butt crack, “A person walks in naked—”

“You’re such a good sport about it,” Madam Malkin said, “Lets go over the customizations that are available.

A short while later, Harry handed over some Galleons, left; entered the Alley. Harry looked around, saw the familiar red hair at Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour , eating the smallest of small sundaes. Harry went to Mr. Fortescue, handed him several Sickles.

“I do not think your friend is happy Mr. Potter,” Mr. Fortescue said.

Harry sat down, in the corner away from Ron; however, Ron’s eyes kept darting at Harry.

“He’s jealous,” Harry said, “He’s richer in many ways—”

“People generally look past what they have and focus on what they do not,” Mr. Fortescue said.

“It’s going to tear us apart,” Harry said.

“Money has destroyed the most treasured of friendships before,” Mr. Fortescue said, “Tread carefully.”

“Ta,” Harry said as he stood, “Any advice on getting him to realize this?”

“You will find the answer,” Mr. Fortescue said, “I’m confident of that.”

Harry left, Ron followed, only to be brought to a slow crawl outside Fourish and Blotts bookstore.

Harry found it a bit bemusing that nobody seemed to care that he was naked in this crowd, well, only the backpack saved the middle of his back, a sensation that he wanted to be over with. So far, nobody seemed to complain, and he found himself okay with that. He even spotted what seemed a familiar face, one he sort of knew from Hogwarts but did not recognize, she grinned at the sight of his soft todger hanging out.

“Excuse me,” Harry said, parting the crowd to enter, “Oh no!”

A sign next to the store read, ‘Book signing today by Gilderoy Lockhart’ .

People, however, stayed clear of the steam rising from a vat of water outside the store. The manager saw Harry and Ron approaching.

“Hogwarts?” the manager asked.

“Sixth year,” Harry said.

“Oh no,” the manager said, “And I thought Monster Book of Monsters was bad.”

With tongs, the manager reached into the vat.

“Dry one please,” Ron said.

“Burned to a crisp,” the manager said, bringing out a book that shot out flame, “Have your dragon hide ready?”

Harry grabbed the book, it immediately calmed down.

“H–How?” the manager stammered.

Harry shot a look at Ron, then grinned, he then handed it to Ron.

“Talent then,” the manager said, “Good luck.”

Harry walked into the store, Ron behind him, avoided the centered desk in the back, and went up the stairs.

“Hi ya Harry.”

Harry turned, Neville just below him.

“Hi,” Harry said.

“You’re casual,” Neville said.

“Am I?” Harry asked, putting his left foot up a step.

“Quite,” Neville said.

Harry felt a bit of nerves, this went from a crowd, to a person he knew, one that, sure, might have seen something in the dormitory, but here, Harry was butt naked and not bothering to hide it. Neville, was a foot or two away, steps down, which made the eye level straight at Harry’s crotch, the bollocks hanging loose.

“Should think we petition Hogwarts to change the school uniform?” Harry asked.

“No,” Neville said, “Daring though, I couldn’t.”

“It’s me,” Harry said, “Totally me.”

“No charms?” Neville said, “I mean, what’s the point if you don’t…enhance things?”

“Not…those exist?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Ron said, “Figured you wouldn’t be interested.”

“Who’s prank was this?” Neville asked.

“We’ll protect the guilty,” Harry said.

“Anything interesting happen this summer?” Neville asked.

“Loads,” Ron said, “Mind us getting our school things?”

“Sure,” Neville said, “See you at school, though maybe less of that.”

“Is this ugly?” Harry asked.

“Not keen on seeing it,” Neville said, “Have to ask Luna if you want a second opinion.”

“Let’s move,” Ron said to Harry.

“Later,” Harry said.

“Yeah,” Neville said.

Harry and Ron climbed the rest of the steps, got some of their books before coming back down. The crowd inside the store slowed their walk, able to make a step every ten seconds, to get to the rest of the stacks of the year’s books. They paid for them, stored them in their backpacks, before they headed out the door. Hands gripped both of their shoulders before they could make it all the way out.

“Just a minute, boys,” said the familiar voice, “We have unfinished business.”

Harry and Ron spun around; standing in front of them was Gilderoy Lockhart.

“Absolutely amazing,” Lockhart said, “A fortune spent and years later, here I stand, _me_.”

“Ill advised waste of money,” Ron said.

“Not our teacher anymore,” Harry said.

“True, Mr. Potter,” Lockhart said, “Otherwise, I’d do something about your wardrobe.”

“Jealous?” Ron said, “No wrinkles.”

“You could both stand to use a bit of styling,” Lockhart said, the eyes surveyed the two naked teenage boys there, with Harry’s black pubic hair and Ron’s red billowing out, “Exceedingly drab and ordinary. Tell them I’ll authorize you getting Lockhart’s Bedroom Fashion , it’s in the adult section, help you accessorize and give you some ideas if you insist on trying to hook up like that.”

“My girlfriend likes it just the way it is,” Harry said.

“One potion to make those hang to the floor,” Lockhart said.

“And step on my balls?” Harry asked.

“Another to hide it when you take a leak,” Lockhart said, “Or did you think there was a reason these shops don’t have loos.”

“Are you saying you’re—right now?” Ron asked.

“I didn’t say that,” Lockhart said, “But you positively astound me.”

“How so?” Harry asked.

“Get a camera and a sign,” Lockhart said, “Chances to get a picture with the famous, _naked_ Harry Potter? Five Galleons a pop, easy. Or…how much is your virginity worth to you?”

“Not a virgin,” Harry said.

“You don’t advertise _that_ ,” Lockhart said, “I can manage the event for you, collect the money.”

“My body is not for sale,” Harry said.

“A missed opportunity,” Lockhart said.

“You heard him,” Ron said.

“Bye,” Harry said.

“You missed something,” Lockhart said, “Nothing a good memory charm couldn’t solve.”

Harry spotted Lockhart’s wand showing, the tip peaking out from the robes, and Harry concentrated; the wand flew. Ron caught the wand, dropped it into the vat of smoldering books in front.

“Now boys—!” Lockhart complained.

“Getting it shouldn’t be difficult,” Harry said, “Not for a wizard with your gifted background, right?”

Ron laughed as he and Harry left the bookstore.

“That was irking,” Ron said.

“Got on my nerves,” Harry replied.

“Fortunately, didn’t see anything by him on the list,” Ron said, “He won’t be at Hogwarts.”

“Good!” Harry exclaimed.

They went to the Apothecary to get potion supplies, stopped by the stationary shop to pick up rolls of parchment, before they headed back. They came back across the UHP Gift Shop , where the crowd was even thicker. Many were there trying to look like Harry, some poor in effort, some good, and some ugly. Ron put up his arms, and shoved first, parting a way for Harry to come up behind.

“Ta,” Harry said to Ron.

“Blimey!” came the first harsh remark, along with “Watch where you’re going”, “Learn to be like Harry Potter,” and other worse things.

“Don’t tell Fred or George,” Ron said as they went into Gambol and Japes  .

“Sure these might not be on the official list,” Harry said, loading up Dungbombs and fireworks into the basket, “But they’re still required. We’ll still check your brothers’ out, but we can mail order from them later if we run out.”

“True,” Ron said, delving into the pile of Exploding snaps.

They worked their way through, before paying and leaving. They went down to 93 Diagon Alley, with Weasley Wizarding Wheezes proudly painted on the outside.

“You know, I think Mum would be really proud,” Ron said, “Cashing in on their antics.”

“They had to practice it,” Harry said.

They entered 93 Diagon Alley; Ginny was now standing behind the counter. She slipped her hand along her skin, to beneath her trousers, the hand clearly massaging.

“George, Fred,” Ginny announced, “We have guests.”

“Stop fantasizing on me!” Harry said.

“You’re bloody NAKED!” Ginny said.

“So am I!” Ron said, “Though don’t fantasize over me either!”

“That’s not a concern,” Ginny stated.

“You don’t need to announce every customer,” George said, coming from a door in the back, “Though—”

“Who?!” Fred shouted, coming down the stairs from upstairs, “Oh,”

“Mind coming into the back?” George said, “Best not to distract the customers. Ginny, keep the money flowing in.”

Harry and Ron followed George into the back room, Fred came in behind. Harry spotted a beetle scurrying about the floor; he kicked it out the door, and stuffed a towel into the crack.

Hate bugs?” George asked as he sat on a wooden chair, the rest sat on the sofas in the small common room.

“Not when it’s Rita Skeeter—” Harry said, “She’s unregistered.”

“Based on your gait, your nudity and tossing off earlier,” Fred said, “That and what we saw back in Romania, you’re _real_ wizards, you lost your virginity.”

“Of course,” Harry said, smiling.

“Show some tack Gred,” George said,

“Do we need to spell it out?” Fred said, “I presume Hermione.”

“Like we’d tell you,” Ron said.

“You know us.” Fred conjured up party hats. “Celebration!”

Tweet!

Some party paper blowouts appeared and were going full swing, fell from the ceiling, balloons floated upward. Ron’s face went bright pink.

“Rubbing it in?” Ron asked.

“Rubbing was involved?” George asked.

George’s chair started galloping like a bucking horse. George moved wildly as the chair shook him about before it finally threw him against the upward going stairs. His chair walked, ran, the wooden legs moved, taking itself down into the basement.

“Wicked—” Ron asked, “Something new?” He glanced at Harry’s eyes, grinned.

“Ow—” George moaned, getting up.

“Still lacking?” Harry asked, “I mean, you’re not _real_ wizards, are you?”

“We are!” Fred protested, also getting up.

Ron perked up, looked up at his standing twin brothers.

“Who—?” Ron asked.

“Like we’d ever tell—” George said.

“Ginny—” Ron started to whisper.

“You wouldn’t—” Fred said.

“That’s extortion!” George protested.

Ron grinned.

“We’ve got some product ideas,” Harry said, “While I don’t have the time—”

“Our silent partner at work—” Fred said.

“Ss—what?” Ron asked.

“We had to finance,” George said, “We listed Harry as a silent partner—”

“That was eff’ing blood money!” Harry said, “I wasn’t keeping it.”

“Did you miss Cedric’s photo in front?” Fred said, “It’s over the front doorway.”

“Condoms,” Harry said, “Magic em to shrink a man’s todger or, using their mother’s voice, scold em—”

“And we’d decimate the Wizarding population,” George said.

Fred brought a different wooden chair over to Harry, sat on it backwards, but faced Harry.

“We’re curious, really curious to exactly _when_ you became real wizards,” Fred said, “July?”

“You first,” Harry said, trying to bluff.

“Alright,” Fred said, “Halloween Dance last fall. Angelina.”

“Yeah, right,” Ron said, disbelieving, “Where?”

“Broom closet, fifth floor,” Fred said.

“Twice,” George said.

“No,” Fred said, “Only once, unfortunately she dumped me the next morning.”

“She thought you did her twice,” George said, “She said you were more mature the second time.”

“You asshole!” Fred leapt from his chair chasing George partially up the stairs.

“Paris,” Harry said.

“Really? Where?” George slipped past Fred to return. “A bathroom in the Louve?”

“Eiffel tower,” Harry said, “On top of it!”

“You’re pulling my leg,” George said.

“We brought our Firebolts,” Harry said, “We managed it.”

“Which day?” George said.

“The ninth, Gia’s birthday,” Harry replied.

“I’ll have to get the book, see who won the pool,” George said.

Ron laughed.

“Ron did too,” Harry said.

“You—” Ron started.

“Good,” George said, “Mum’s good for a lot, but making sure you move on in life, that’s what a brother’s for.”

Harry glanced at the clock.

“I did come to shop,” Harry said, “Then we’d be leaving.”

“Of course, of course,” George said.

George went over, held the door open, while Harry and Ron went out.

* * *

It was late into the evening before Harry and Ron stepped out of the fireplace into Hermione’s living room, which was empty.

“Hermione!” Harry shouted.

Their buttocks flexed, climbed the stairs, went to her bedroom, empty of her, though filled in books and things.

“Where is she?” Ron muttered, putting his backpack down.

“Dunno,” Harry said, going back down the stairs, “Oh, I get it.”

Harry’s ears had picked up the sound, and he walked to the back sliding glass door. He put his backpack down as he stepped out into the evening dusk. Giggling, watching Ron and Harry, were Gia and Hermione, in the hot tub, sipping on some champagne.

“Get everything?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah,” Ron said, stepping onto the tub’s edge.

“Did we say you could come in?” Gia asked.

“Got to hit the loo anyways,” Harry said.

“Let’s see,” Gia said.

Hermione laughed.

“Now?” Harry asked.

“Got to go or not?” Gia asked.

Harry stepped up to the edge of the hot tub, held his penis.

“Not there, silly, here,” Gia patted the water’s top.

Harry entered the tub, floated on his back, Gia held his penis upward, straight up.

“Not a loo at all there,” Harry said, “Well…”

“They’d have them,” Ron said, “Thought you would’ve asked.”

“Bet you flashed those things all over Diagon Alley too,” Hermione said.

“It’s not like you gave us a choice,” Ron said.

“Honestly thought their owls would’ve been slower,” Hermione said, “Given you a chance.”

“It’s been soft—” Harry paused as his dick stiffened “—was down all day.”

Hermione reached, held Harry’s dick too. Harry took a moment, to relax his bladder, the extra hands made it tougher, but he relaxed, released. Hermione and Gia watched, as Harry’s hard statute, jutting upward, turned into a fountain, and his yellow gyser jetted upward.

“Fascinating,” Hermione said, “Or at least that’s what you want to hear, right Harry?”

“Let him do it,” Gia said.

“I could’ve just watched him sleep,” Hermione said.

“Shh!” Ron hushed.

“What about my sleep?” Harry asked.

“Nothing,” Ron said, “Gotta go myself.”

Ron stood on the edge, held his own dick, and began to pee; he aimed, hit to join Harry’s yellow stomach.

“Hey!” Harry snapped.

“You’re a big boy,” Hermione said to Ron, in a mockery tone, “You can pee standing up!”

“Let em pee,” Gia said, “If they wanna show us, let them.”

Ron, though, moved his dick, peed on Hermione.

“Hey!” Hermione snapped.

Gia cantered Harry’s cock, Harry’s golden jet hit Hermione too. Ron finished first, slipped into the bubbles. Harry’s stream slowed, before it was just a dribble.

“You tricked us into going starkers at Diagon Alley,” Ron said to Hermione.

“Your faults for running around naked!” Hermione said.

“Which was your idea!” Ron replied.

“On July second, only!” Hermione said, “It was your idea to keep running around naked, screwing everything in sight.”

“And we’re all better for it,” Ron said, “It was a brilliant idea, just shortsighted if you thought it was only good on that one day. I know you way, way, better now because of it.”

“So everyone saw it?” Hermione asked, “Your dick?”

“Yep,” Harry said, “Some even liked it. Should bring you Gia, maybe bang!”

“No sex, remember?” Gia said, cupping Harry’s testicles.

“Doctor really said that?” Ron asked.

“Yep,” Harry said.

“Sorry there Mate,” Ron said, grabbing Harry’s hard cock, addressing it, “No action for a while.”

“Poor thing,” Hermione said as she gripped Harry’s dick, giggled.

“Somebody’s been taking a bit too much,” Gia said.

“I am feeling much better,” Harry said, “Can we do it tomorrow, every five minutes?”

Gia laughed as Snuffles transformed.

“Harry,” Sirius said, “You’re acting as immature as your age represents! If you’re trying to hide the fact that you’re a wizard in heat, you’ve got a funny way of going about it.”

“I’m not trying to hide,” Harry said.

“If you did half the things you suggested, you’d be in serious trouble,” Sirius said, “Do it Diagon Alley and you’ll ensure those coming after you will go after her; don’t make _my_ task, the one you gave me, any more difficult, alright?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Harry said.

“Best if you headed back before your adopted family gets worried, right?” Sirius asked Gia.

“Yes,” Gia said, “Later Hermione.”

Gia stood up, dragged Harry for a moment before he stood; they got out, went into the house. Sirius stood there, waiting until he heard the front door.

“There’s more?” Ron asked.

“How long has he been like this?” Sirius asked.

“Naked?” Ron said, “Since we left for Romania, Hermione can explain why.”

“I was vaguely aware of that,” Sirius said, “He’s still at it, you both are too, plenty of times that somebody could’ve stopped him, could’ve intervened, they haven’t.”

“I had figured Professor Dumbledore arranged something,” Ron said.

“It would not have been him,” Sirius said, “It feels like a bewitchment.”

“I heard the summer heat convinced the police to turn a blind eye,” Hermione said.

“It was hot in July, halfway into August,” Sirius said, “It’s now the end of August, does it feel exceptionally hot to you?”

“No,” Ron said, “Thought my nuts were just getting a bit tighter.”

“Think about it as you’re playing with your love spuds,” Sirius said, “How often does the word _coincidence’_ go with Harry?”

“Not often,” Hermione said.

“Be watchful,” Sirius said.

“Keep Harry out of trouble,” Ron said.

Sirius transformed, Snuffles ran around the house and left.

“He’s right,” Hermione said.

“It could always be as simple as Harry _wants_ to go around naked,” Ron said, his head turned, his eyes on her face, “You know, he gives off that aura that says,  Don’t arrest me! ”

“Right, he strips, and nobody complains?” Hermione said, “Unlikely, it is weird.”

“Maybe, but I like it as it is,” Ron said, before a smile came onto his face.

“Are you about to—?” Hermione started to asked.

Ron planted his lips onto hers, kissed.

“Blegh!” Ron stammered.

“You _pissed_ on me, remember?” Hermione said.

“Oh, lets wash,” Ron said, running his hand onto her face. He rinsed, rubbed.

“Thinking you’re going to bang me?” Hermione asked.

“No,” Ron said, “I think you’ll bang _me_.”

“I do want to see what you bought,” Hermione said, as she stood up.

“We’re done?” Ron asked.

“For tonight,” Hermione said, “Keep it easy beneath the sheets.”

Ron laid back, turned on the bubbles after Hermione left, lounged while staring up at the stars.

* * *

It was late Thursday morning when Harry and Gia had already left the optometrist on High Street, sweat followed the straps of the backpack over Harry’s shoulders, down his bare chest only to drip from his dick swaying as he walked.

“Still feel a bit weird,” Harry said.

“Millions of people wear them,” Gia said.

“I know, different,” Harry said.

“You’ll get used to them,” Gia said.

Snuffles pushed up against Harry’s legs, dropped a stick by his feet. Harry picked up the stick, gave a fake toss, Snuffles ran. Gia chuckled, glanced to Harry’s face, not for the last time, her eyes landed where the glasses used to be.

“Here we go,” Harry reached down, picked up a tennis ball.

“You two,” Gia said.

“Isn’t every boy supposed to have quality time with their godfather?” Harry asked.

Snuffles returned, saw the tennis ball, and Harry threw it. Snuffles ran, lunged after it. Harry stepped around an overturned wagon on the walk.

“Dad’s funeral is Saturday,” Gia said.

“I’ll come,” Harry said.

“Ta,” Gia said.

Snuffles dropped the tennis ball, barreled into the shrubbery — birds squawked and flew out of the bush.

“Annoying, the homework they assign before school even starts,” Harry grumbled.

They paused for a moment. She ran her finger up the ridge of his nose, up to his forehead, smiled.

“Yeah, better,” Harry said.

They continued, making it to Hermione’s house. Snuffles darted for the back, while Harry opened the door. They entered. Scratching of the quill gave it away, leading Harry and Gia to the dining room, where Ron and Hermione were sitting, naked. Books cluttered, while Crookshanks was sprawled out on top of some pieces of parchment. Harry stood behind Hermione, glanced down at the essays Hermione was preparing.

“Harry,” Ron asked, “What happened today?”

“Huh?” Harry muttered.

“Your glasses,” Ron said, “They’re missing.”

“Blimey!” Harry said to Gia, in a mocking tone, “Knew I forgot something.”

“You don’t forget,” Ron asked, “Where are they?”

Harry put his backpack down onto the table, took out Portkeys: Theory and Operation . Hermione rolled her eyes, which Ron spied.

“A guy’s got to do what a guy has to do,” Ron said.

“You still need your glasses,” Hermione said to Harry.

Harry pulled out a case, showed them, and put them back into the backpack.

“You’re teasing her, aren’t you?” Ron said.

“Not wearing them,” Harry said, sitting down.

“Contacts,” Gia said as she sat.

A grin crept across Hermione’s face. “It’s a better look.”

Ron raised his eyebrows as Harry took out the Hogwarts pins.

“Contacts _replace_ the need for glasses,” Hermione said.

Ron’s eyes studied Harry’s.

“He just obliterated many lines of the Unofficial Harry Potter Fan Club merchandise,” Hermione said.

Harry grinned.

“Ginny’ll be very upset,” Ron said.

Harry shrugged.

“They have some that change the color of your eyes,” Hermione said, “That’d let you go incognito.”

A few minutes later, Sirius came in.

“Can you reconsider the collar?” Sirius asked, throwing his dog collar down onto the table, the license tags jingled.

Harry grabbed the collar, checked it.

“Fleas, ticks, or is it lice?” Harry asked.

“What?” Sirius asked.

“Here,” Harry said, pointing to a black spec that was moving.

“Fleas?” Hermione said, “Get it out!”

“Glad I burned James’ flea joke list,” Sirius said.

“I’ll let you wash yourself,” Harry said as he handed the collar back, “If you want one that guards against those, we’ll stop by the pet store.”

“No need for that,” Sirius said as he left the room.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione continued studying.


	13. Sixth Years

“Where is he?” Hermione demanded, dressed in a long sleeved shirt and a pink jumper. She hung up the phone for the umpteenth time that Sunday morning, the first of September.

“It’s Harry,” Ron said, scratching at the collar of his shirt.

Ron and Hermione walked back into the living room. Linda Granger was pacing.

“Train’s at eleven,” Linda said, checking her watch, “Five minutes—we’re leaving with or without him.”

Hermione picked up her phone, hit redial. “Gia—where’s Harry? He needs to hurry over … We’re leaving in five minutes—don’t want him to miss—but— … Ta.”

“And—?” Ron asked.

Pop

Harry stumbled, fell onto the entry way; clothes were in his hands, but not on him. His trunk fell next to him; Linda watched the teenager fumbling.

“Come!” Hermione snapped.

Ron grabbed the trunk, helped carry it outside, into the boot of the car. Linda got into the driver’s seat and started the car.

“Cutting it a bit close?” Hermione asked, glancing between the seats to Harry staring at his clothes.

“We’ll make it,” Harry said.

Ron waved, breaking up the line of sight between Hermione and Harry dressing, he stuck his head in between. Hermione snorted.

“Your friend will make us—” Hermione said.

“As usual,” Ron stated, “Perfectly normal to run for the train—” Ron reached over the seat, grabbed Hermione.

“Not in front of your Mum–in–law,” Harry warned.

Ron blushed, Linda spat out tea, Hermione glared.

“We’re not—” Hermione stated.

“He’s proposed?” Harry asked.

The car lurched to the right, a horn blared, then Linda wrenched the steering wheel and brought them back between the lines. Pigwidgeon chirped.

“Have you?” Ron asked Harry.

“Should’ve happened ages ago,” Harry said as he watched Ron’s ears turn even pinker.

“Harry—” Ron squeaked.

“Anything interesting this year—?” Linda asked, attempting to divert the subject as they turned onto the motorway.

“Muggle studies—” Harry paused as Hermione snorted “—his woman studies—” Harry gave Ron a slight nudge.

“Are you mad?!” Ron exclaimed.

Harry smiled back.

“Moron,” Ron said.

A speeding citation later, for going ninety two in a sixty zone, they reached King’s Cross at 10:52. With a warning of the train, they leapt aboard as the train rolled down the track, with Harry having jumped several feet as the train nearly left without him.

“Wicked!” Ron said, “Can we cut it closer next time?!”

“NO!” Hermione exclaimed.

“We could jump back off and miss—” Harry said.

“There’s one,” Hermione said, pointing at the compartment at the end.

Harry entered the empty compartment first, then opened his truck and removed his books, some parchment, and an ink jar.

“Don’t tell me—” Hermione said.

“Just a little bit left to do,” Harry said.

Hermione snorted, watched as Harry worked on two essays. It was raining outside the train, the water flowed on the glass.

“For once your nagging paid off,” Ron said to Hermione.

Hermione switched seats, sat next to Ron, she caught his smile.

“Ron…” Hermione asked, his grin not letting up as he watched her.

Ron leaned over, kissed her.

“Keep it up,” Harry said, “Helps me concentrate.”

“Right,” Hermione said.

Ron, though, leaned over, hugged her.

“You know, these clothes are really uncomfortable,” Harry said, tugging at his shirt collar.

“Could change,” Hermione said.

“He means he wants to go starkers,” Ron said, smile on his face, “Not a bad idea, I liked it.”

“Somehow, I don’t think Hogwarts would agree to a dress code change,” Hermione said.

Ron leaned, setting Hermione down onto the bench. He laid on top of her.

“You’re simply beautiful, clothes detract,” Ron said.

“You tell her,” Harry said.

“You just want me naked,” Hermione said.

“Why cover up perfection?” Ron asked.

Ron kissed her.

“And you’re horny,” Hermione said, feeling into Ron’s trousers.

“Mind?” Ron asked.

“Go ahead,” Harry said.

“He wasn’t asking you,” Hermione said.

“Better than transfiguration,” Harry said.

“Let it out,” Ron said to Hermione.

Hermione unzipped Ron’s trousers, unbuttoned the top, and his hard erection came out; she unzipped her own. Ron parted the two halves, pulled the panties down, and felt it; he touched, rubbed her clitoris as he kissed her lips.

“Madam Malkin had underwear that’d expand to accommodate your stiffy,” Harry said, “Wonder if there’s something for couples, you know, puts your dick against the pussy.”

Ron seemed to take the suggestion, red flashed across his erection before it entered into Hermione. His hands slipped beneath her shirt, felt up to her bra and worked his way beneath them. He felt her small breasts, thumbs on her nipples, as he began to slide his cock back and forth, for a moment.

“Hello,” Seamus Finnigan said, coming into the compartment.

“Hello, nice seeing you,” Ron replied, keenly aware that his hard erection was in Hermione, wanting to be used, and wanting Seamus to finish so he could too.

“Studying?” Seamus asked Ron.

“Yes,” Harry said, deflecting the attention, “Transfiguration.”

“Done your Potions?” Seamus asked.

“That’s next,” Harry said.

“How was your summer?” Seamus said, “Heard something about traveling?”

“Yeah, across Europe,” Harry said, “Saw the dragons.”

“You could’ve just waited,” Seamus said, “That book is wicked.”

“It’ll be a fun year,” Harry said.

“Did you at least get laid?” Seamus asked.

“Excuse me?” Hermione scolded.

Seamus glanced at Ron and Hermione, where a bit of Ron’s shaft was showing, hard to miss as it shimmered a bit in red magic.

“I’ll take that as a _yes_ ,” Seamus said.

“It’s cool,” Harry said.

“There comes Neville,” Seamus said, “I’ll keep him away for you.”

“Ta,” Harry said.

Seamus left.

“That’s why this is a bad idea,” Hermione said.

“Strangely makes it more enticing,” Ron said, “I’ll be quick.”

Ron flexed his hips, repeatedly, as he plied his stiff erection in Hermione. He held it in for a moment.

“Make your deposit,” Harry said.

“Did you know the school honor code applies on the train too?” Ginny asked, coming into the compartment.

“Bug off,” Ron said, turning around to face her, drips of semen clung to his slit as it seeped out, “You’re not Head Girl.”

“You could become infamous,” Ginny said, “Be the first Weasley _expelled_ from Hogwarts.”

Hermione moved to sit upright. Ron grabbed a tissue, wiped his dick before restoring his underwear, his trousers.

“Do you mind?” Harry said to Ginny, “Don’t want me to be _expelled_ for not getting my homework done.”

Ginny left.

“Thanks,” Ron said.

“Anything from the trolley?” asked the lady pushing the cart past.

“Yeah,” Harry said, standing. He paid for a few treats, handed them to Ron, and sat back down.

Hermione got a Daily Prophet , when the front page article was plainly visible for them to see.

1 September, 1996

Fudge Removed

After a vote of no confidence in the Wizengamot two weeks ago, former Minister for Magic Cornelius Oswald Fudge has been removed from office having been unable to bolster his ratings. Stepping into this role, the leader of the opposition, Victor Fallerschain, who promises reforms will be installed on Monday.

“With Fudge—” Hermione said to Ron.

“A Mr. Victor Fallerschain,” Ron said, “Dad mentioned him—seems clean and decent, even Skeeter can’t seem to find anything. He’s currently interim until the Wizengamot can ratify—new blood is what’s needed. Dad’s worried about him possibly sacking the old—”

“Like we’d be soo sorry for that!” Malfoy entered the compartment, followed by Crabbe and Goyle. “Suppose it’d be another sign of the errors of your ways Potter. Protecting Muggles, Mudbloods, and other rubbish; leads to consequences such as poverty, dead mothers, and broken homes. That shack wasn’t worth much anyways.”

“Out, Malfoy!” Harry was now standing, wand drawn. “Your presence is unwelcome.”

“Careful Potter, you’re picking up their bad habits.” Malfoy sniffed the air. “Easy to follow the stench—they can’t afford to clean their diapers, but you—”

Red light shimmered in the compartment as stunning curses flew. As the smoky haze cleared, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were on the floor. Ron and Harry dragged them into the corridor. Ron slammed the compartment door.

“I—” Ron stammered.

“Why’d he even know?” Hermione said, “Write—”

Ron realized the truth of Hermione’s question because Arthur Weasley had taken efforts to keep the news contained. Ron got out parchment and quill, wrote a quick note. Harry held the window open for Ron to toss out Pigwidgeon. Pig tumbled in the rain before the fluttering fuzz was out of their sight. Ron got out his package of Exploding Snaps.

“Harry needs to work on his essays,” Hermione said.

“A few is alright,” Harry said.

Pop! Pop!

“Alright, alright!” Ron said to Hermione, “Suppose you’ll want me to do a strip tease or something.”

“I’ll take you up on that, later,” Hermione replied.

Harry snorted, returned to his essays, pestering Hermione as the train traveled.

* * *

Hoot!

“An owl?” Andy asked, entering Gia’s bedroom. Andy had her pair of panties on, with modest breasts that were still blooming.

Gia was arranging the books on the bookshelf beneath the window. Gia was naked as she was squatting, moving the books around, separating Harry’s from hers.

“Hedwig,” Gia said, “She’s Harry’s.”

Andy reached over, tugged on a feather.

Hoot! Hoot!

“Careful,” Gia said.

“He’s got a dog and an owl,” Andy said, “What else does he got?”

“He loves me, that’s enough,” Gia said.

“What school starts on a Sunday, the _whole_ Sunday?” Andy asked.

“That _is_ odd,” Richard said, he was wearing blue boxers, but shirtless.

“You’re odd!” Andy snapped, lunging to push Richard backward. Richard stumbled, caught himself against the door jam.

“SCRAM!” Richard barked.

“Don’t TOUCH ME THERE!” Andy complained, returning to her bedroom.

“He obviously plans to come back,” Richard said, seeing the assortment of books, “Bit weird…” He grabbed Magical Me “…it’s not moving, is it?”

“He didn’t want to take all of his books,” Gia said, “Just the ones needed for his current lessons.”

“I mean, it’s not a hologram,” Richard said, “Though it acts like one.”

“Have to ask Harry,” Gia said, while putting Magical Drafts and Potions onto the shelf, “He’ll be back tonight.”

“Reason I came in,” Richard said, “Jen’s stuck at church until late, she can’t make it, but I’ve got two tickets to Independence Day . Want to see it?”

“Oh,” Gia said, “Sounds…sure.”

“I’ll get my jacket,” Richard said.

Gia grabbed her coat, slipped her feet into the sandals, went down the stairs. Richard followed. Snuffles perked his head up, met them at the door.

“Come on boy,” Gia said to Snuffles. She chuckled, knowing full well who it was.

“Smart dog,” Richard said.

Snuffles wagged his tail as they went out the door. Rain that had been meeting the train heading north had invaded the south, and was drizzling outside. Snuffles brushed up against Gia for a moment.

“You’re sure about that?” Richard asked as they started to walk.

His eyes glanced at what Gia knew, she only had on the sandals, the jacket; her breasts exposed between the two halves of the jacket, her shaved vagina showing. Her eyes, though, could see him, who was one pair of boxers ahead, a blue that matched his closed jacket.

“Like you’re one to talk,” Gia said.

“Technically, it counts for cover,” Richard said, “I like the breeze.”

“Ever heard of a yeast infection?” Gia asked.

“Um…not really,” Richard said.

“Can happen,” Gia said, “I was worried about it at first, when Harry talked me into showing it, not a problem lately. I’m guessing it wasn’t meant to be covered up.”

They kept walking. Gia felt the rain hit her buttocks, her skin, and it felt good, though the jacket helped keep her warm as they made for the movie theater. It was a short walk. Richard stepped up to the attendant, handed the tickets over, and they went inside. Richard counted, and they entered the third room, sat down in the middle, his boxers tightened, stretched, letting the front flap part a bit, the head of his circumcised penis showing a bit, tucked inside.

“Suppose you didn’t think about popcorn or something,” Gia said.

“Only if I’m on a date with Jen,” Richard said as he stretched his legs over the backs of the seats in front of them. “Um…” His boxers had contorted with his legs, the gap had widened to let his todger roam out a bit.

Gia leaned back too, stretched her legs out, parted them a bit. She felt the urge, and having lost the shame while hanging out with Harry, went ahead and put her finger into her folds, her thumb rubbed her clitoris. Even though Richard’s eyes drifted, loitered to where she was massaging, she kept it up, and saw the pink move. She glanced at the erection, the one that Richard had yet to pay attention to, one that her mind was teasing her enough that she felt the bearing down, she sighed deeply. Richard’s glans appeared tougher, dryer, than Harry’s, but still with the little divot for the slit, the hard cock jutting outward to grab her attention.

It took another moment for Richard to notice, to realize, when he blushed pink. He moved enough to pull his jacket off, used it to clump over his crotch.

“Sorry about that,” Richard said.

“I thought you were into Jen,” Gia said.

“I am!” Richard said, “Can’t help it, you make me…you saw it. You’re more valuable as a friend, classmate, so I’ll keep it to myself.”

“That challenges you?” Gia asked.

“You are—” Richard’s eyes drifted back to her, surveyed the breasts, “Extraordinary, but I don’t want to harm you. If I do, you’ve got my permission…permission to castrate me, agreed?”

“Sure,” Gia said.

“Walk around starkers, and it’s a fact of life,” Richard said.

“Harry went through the same thing,” Gia said, “It’s fun teasing boys, you can tell the jerks from the gentlemen really quick.”

“Suppose it does,” Richard said, untying his left shoe. He removed his sock, brought it beneath the jacket covering his crotch. He adjusted the jacket, covered most of his arm.

Gia could tell what he was doing, trying to hide it. However, she figured it better to play dumb as the lights dimmed.

“At least I’ll know if this is a good movie or not,” Gia said.

“Should be…” Richard drifted off.

Gia knew what Richard’s deep breathing meant, the contorsion of the face, she had seen Harry and Ron do it countless times.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Gia said.

Richard sighed as the next trailer came across the screen. A few more motions, and Richard pulled the jacket back, the todger softened back into the boxers as he hung the sock on the next seat to dry out.

“I figured that was best,” Richard said, “Don’t know Harry well enough to cross his girl. How far away is his school anyways?”

* * *

Clouds had masked the train, turning to a solid rain as they passed from Edinburgh to Glasgow; it became heavier as they traveled north, as if the train were riding under the water of a lake.

“About time,” Hermione said, opening her trunk as they felt the train start to slow.

“Yeah,” Harry said. He closed his books, put the quill away, and opened his trunk; he grabbed his slacks. Harry dropped his blue jeans, showing the freely hanging todger.

“No underwear?” Hermione asked.

“Does it look like he’s wearing any?” Ron said, “Cool. Like the idea.”

“Madam Malkin promised some trousers that’ll let things swing freely,” Harry said, pulling his slacks up.

“Look,” Hermione said, “For the record, I did appreciate you two running around starkers all summer, it was fun, we’ll have to do it again.”

“We did, eh?” Ron asked.

“As I doubt that even you could persuade Professor Dumbledore to change the dress code,” Hermione said, “I’ll imagine that you still are.”

“Thank you,” Harry said.

“Do it again next summer?” Hermione asked.

“Sure!” Harry and Ron said in unison.

They fitted up their Hogwarts uniforms by the time the train came to a halt in Hogsmeade. They joined the crowds of students getting out.

“Firs’ years, this way,” Hagrid called out.

Harry waved. Hagrid returned the wave, before shepherding the students without a house down to the boats. Through the hard breeze, the rain pouring buckets, and the cold weather, they headed for the carriages. Water seeped in, evaded the best of water repellent charms, soaked into their cloaks and other clothes.

“Hi,” said Ernie Macmillan, along with Seamus Finnigan, coming toe to toe as they waited in the queue for the next carriage to pull through.

“Hey,” Ron said. Ron’s eyes, like Hermione’s and Harry’s, saw the skeletal figures pulling the carriages.

“Suppose a covered walkway would be asking too much,” Seamus said.

Seamus and Ernie climbed onto the same carriage as Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Fire beneath the leather benches lapped upward, the heat, though, was fruitless in warding off the cold and damp in their clothes.

“Might keep dry if I were to swim across the lake instead,” Seamus said, glancing at the rising lake water.

“Did you have fun this summer?” Ernie asked.

“It was…okay,” Harry said, “Nothing exciting—”

Ron spat, opened his mouth, but shut it upon Harry’s look.

“What did you—” Ernie started, before Seamus interrupted it.

“Blimey!” Seamus exclaimed, pointing.

Even though evening had already come upon them, they could all see the castle as it had been illuminated for the first years to see it. Seamus, however, was pointing toward the rubble heap, a rubble heap that was in the place of the North Tower, the ruins of the structure that Voldemort had collapsed the previous June.

“The curse was interesting,” Ron said.

“Ronald!” Hermione snapped.

“Indigo—web of magic,” Harry said, “Fascinating, actually, though the result and the caster are deplorable.”

Seamus and Ernie glared at Harry and Ron.

“You witnessed it?” Seamus stammered.

“Death Eaters galore,” Ron said.

Their carriage came to halt under a short canopy in front of the castle.

“The Daily Prophet mentioned some damage,” Seamus said.

“Mostly still standing,” Harry said, climbing out of the carriage.

They went up the stairs, into the Entrance Hall. Harry loitered for a moment, as Ron and Hermione charged into the Great Hall. Harry went up the marble stairs, walked down the corridor, and knocked at Professor McGonagall’s office.

“We’ve got a feast to get to,” Professor McGonagall said, “Is it urgent?”

“There was an attack at Privet Drive this summer,” Harry said, entering the office, “My Aunt and Uncle, the Dursleys, were killed.”

“My condolences,” Professor McGonagall said.

“As they were my guardians,” Harry said, pulling out a round paper curled up, handed it over, “I took the liberty, got myself emancipated.”

Professor McGonagall opened it.

“This seems in order,” Professor McGonagall said.

“Professor,” Harry said, “I want nothing to change in regards to my Hogwarts education.”

“Realize this will mean some changes,” Professor McGonagall said, “It means you’ll be held to adult standards of behavior, expect no warnings.”

“Understood,” Harry said.

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Mr. Potter,” Professor McGonagall said, “Bon Appetite.”

Harry turned around, headed toward the Great Hall.

* * *

Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione took seats on the opposite sides to the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, near the back of the Hall. Hermione’s eyes darted back and forth, as she looked around.

“Where’s Harry?” Hermione asked.

“I’m guessing he went to give Moaning Myrtle a Cheering Charm,” Ron said as his stomach growled.

Hermione snorted. Professor Flitwick entered the Great Hall with a long line of wet, wet, first years.

“Greetings,” Professor Flitwick said, “Please come forward as I call your name.”

“Where’s Harry?” Colin Creevy asked of Ron and Hermione.

“Probably trying to get an early dinner out of the kitchens,” Ron said, “Good thing cause I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving,” Hermione said.

“But I am,” Ron said.

“He’ll be along shortly,” Ginny said to Colin.

“Yeah,” Colin replied.

“You’re staring at me,” Hermione said to Ron.

“Shall I come over to your side?” Ron asked, politely.

“We’re in the Great Hall,” Hermione whispered to him.

“Alright, under the table?” Ron asked.

“It’s inappropriate,” Hermione said.

“Quidditch, inappropriate?” Ron asked.

“That’s what you were thinking about?” Hermione asked.

“What’d you think I was thinking about?” Ron replied.

“Never mind,” Hermione said as the last of the first years left the stool, to the clapping of Hufflepuff.

Harry entered the Great Hall, walked over, sat down next to Ron. Hermione’s eyes focused on Harry’s grin.

“Where were you?” Hermione asked.

“Had to talk to McGonagall,” Harry said, “Later.”

“Feed me,” Ron said to Hermione.

Professor Dumbledore rose with grace, albeit, slowly and he took his time.

“Welcome,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Please, enjoy!”

Professor Dumbledore placed his hands to his mouth and waved them off; platters of food appeared. The food vanished at nearly the same beat as it had appeared, as it moved fast to the hundreds of plates to be shoveled rapidly into the mouths and stomachs of the hundreds of students. Harry, however, took half a biscuit and a goblet of pumpkin juice. Hermione glanced up from her salad to Harry’s plate, she frowned.

“Always a pleasure to have you.”

Out of the table came the silver shadowy figure of Sir Nicholas — some of the first years spilled their pumpkin juice at the sight of the ghosts entering.

“Hello,” Harry said, his eyebrows were arched, green eyes glared at Sir Nicolas, and his arms were folded.

“Good to see you,” Sir Nicholas said, “Unhappy, Mr. Potter?”

“He’d rather be elsewhere,” Ron said.

“Hogwarts is a grand opportunity—” Sir Nicholas said.

“It’s something else,” Ron said.

Sir Nicholas studied Harry for a moment.

“Grand sacrifice,” Sir Nicholas said.

Hermione snorted, Harry grinned. Sir Nicholas moved onto the other Gryffindors.

“Three empty seats,” Neville said.

“Three?” Ron said, counting on his fingers, “Hooch and Trelawney murdered—”

“Murdered?” Neville spat.

“Yep,” Harry said, not wanting to dredge up those memories, of the teachers killed during their last term.

“Explains the lack of Divination OWLs,” Parvati said.

“These two managed to get them.” Seamus pointed at Harry and Ron.

“How?” Dean demanded.

“It was Trelawney’s final exam,” Harry said.

Hermione rolled her eyes, said, “Bad pun Harry.”

“It’s true,” Ron said, “She gave no more after us.”

Everybody hushed as Professor Dumbledore again made his graceful and slow rise from his chair, all watched, all hushed, even the few who hadn’t already cleaned off their plates; however, the Slytherins kept up their chatter until Professor McGonagall chimed her cup..

“I have been well fed and watered … Similarly I hope that you have too … First years please note … The forest is forbidden to all students. … Mr. Filch, … our head caretaker, has … added several things to … the list of prohibited items including … several lines from Weasley … Wizarding Wheezes. … New teachers—”

Harry’s jaw dropped at the sight of their new teachers coming out of the Antechamber. Madam Pomfrey came carrying a flask to Professor Dumbledore, he drank it.

“Thank you Poppy.” Professor Dumbledore turned back to the students. “Dana Caldwell will assume the Divination Post. Nymphadora Tonks will assist Professor Lupin in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Lastly, Oliver Wood has agreed to take the post in Quidditch and he will be balancing those duties with those demanded of him at Puddlemere United.”

Professor Dumbledore sat down as the other students started to head for the doors. Harry hurried up to the Staff Table and went for Oliver Wood.

“Hi!” Harry exclaimed.

“It is good to see you Mr. Potter,” Professor Dumbledore said, slowly standing with the assistance of Madam Pomfrey.

“Still have that Firebolt?” Oliver Wood asked.

“Great for skirt chasing—” Ron said.

Hermione nudged Ron.

“Well, it is,” Ron said.

A smile crept on Professor Dumbledore’s face before he grabbed a cane. The cane shook as Professor Dumbledore bore his weight on it; the tap of the cane hitting the floor slowly echoed. Harry walked fast, leading Ron and Hermione, and followed Professor Dumbledore out of the Great Hall.

“Professor!” Harry said.

“Professor McGonagall has informed me about your new arrangement,” Professor Dumbledore said, coming to a halt, “That matter is settled.”

Harry handed over two Hogwarts pins; Professor Dumbledore tapped them with his wand, returned them to Harry. Professor Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled as the pins self–transfigured themselves into cloth patches.

“The north tower?” Harry said, “I thought it’d have been rebuilt, or at least started by now.”

“Bureaucracy is to blame,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Our esteemed planning commission is treating it as a new addition, meaning permits and an environmental impact statement. In the meanwhile, it leaks, so it has been cleared of nearly anything that could be affected by our weather. Welcome back.”

Professor Dumbledore headed along the ground floor corridor, while Harry and Oliver Wood climbed the marble stairs; Ron and Hermione followed.

“Dumbledore’s cane is new,” Harry asked, “How long has he been using it?”

“Usually in the evening, well, it’s only been a week since I arrived,” Oliver Wood said, “Can’t tell you more.”

“Will you be refereeing?” Ron asked.

“Yes,” Oliver Wood said, “It’ll be nice to see a nice tame match.”

“Tame?!” Hermione exclaimed, “Gryffindor vs Slytherin, tame?”

“You obviously haven’t seen Pro,” Oliver Wood said.

“Where do we sign up?” Ron asked.

Hermione snorted.

“The trouble of being a Professor, the work is not over after the feast,” Oliver Wood said, “Ta.”

Wood took off down the fourth floor, while Harry led the way up the stairs to the fifth floor. Harry encountered the crowd on the seventh floor outside the portrait of the Fat Lady.

“Password?” the Fat Lady asked.

“Sex,” Dean replied.

The Fat Lady did not budge.

“Aren’t you Prefect?” Ron demanded.

Harry pushed through.

“Hot tub!” Harry exclaimed.

The Fat Lady moved, the portrait swung open. Dean gaped as Harry walked through and up the stairs. Ron followed.

“Remember?” Harry said, “Dumbledore changed it before we left last year.

Ron snorted. Harry ran up the stairs to the top. Ron entered the sixth years’ boys dormitory in time to witness Harry vanishing. Behind Ron came Seamus, Dean, and Neville. Seamus looked at Harry’s empty bunk.

“He’d better—” Seamus started.

“Cut him a break,” Ron said.

“Just want to know his plans,” Dean said, “What are you gonna pull this year?”

“Don’t you understand Dean?” Seamus said, “With the Headmaster in their pocket, they are unlimited.”

“Just butt out, Okay?” Ron snapped, “Try the north tower if you’re desperate—in the meanwhile, I’m—never mind.”

Ron left the dormitory.

* * *

A few minutes earlier, Hermione had entered her dormitory, it too, being at the top of their stairs. She crossed, sat at the foot of her mattress, shuddering at the thought of the room being full of Draco Malfoy’s victims back in June. She laid back and zoned out for a bit, her thoughts drifted to that fateful day on the train many years ago when she first met Harry and Ron; they’ve been strong influences on her life, even convincing her to streak for the summer, she didn’t see that coming.

Crack!

A bit of thunder in the distance brought her to realize time was passing. She got up, opened her trunk, tossed aside a pair of Ron’s boxers, before grabbing her toiletries bag. She went for the small bathroom in the dormitory. She opened the bag, the condom was on top, a spare she had packed years ago in case a boy needed to use it with her, well before she learned of the magical one. Footsteps could be heard through the door as she brushed her teeth, flossed; though she knew dental hygiene wasn’t a strong habit at Hogwarts, she was at the top of the list, likely due to her parents being dentists.

After Hermione was done, she came back into the sleeping room, naked. She tossed her Hogwarts clothes onto her bed, to where Parvati was holding up the pair of Ron’s boxers. Parvati, though, was already down to her pink brassiere and pink panties, the most they had worn in the dormitory for years; Parvati’s eyes were watching Hermione, Hermione standing there with nothing on to even cover the small breasts.

“Out of my—” Hermione demanded.

“Any action?” Parvati asked, holding the boxers forward for Lavender Brown to also examine. Lavender, with her ebony skin, had a light yellow sports bra, but naked below the waste, her shaved pussy on display as she reached to touch Ron’s boxers.

“We’re simply curious,” Lavender said.

“We’ll pin this to the common room bulletin board,” Parvati said, “Under lost and found, describing exactly where—”

Hermione ripped the boxers from Parvati’s hands, threw them into her trunk as she slammed it shut.

“She did—” Lavender said, “Likely a real _witch_!”

“I’ve always been a _real_ witch!” Hermione protested, “Sex isn’t the difference!”

“How was it?” Parvati asked, her finger pushing into her panties, revealing the shape, the contours, to her vulva.

“It’s none of your business!” Hermione protested.

“Tell us your story or we’ll write our own,” Parvati said, “So, it was Malfoy—”

“Extortion!” Hermione protested.

“Where?” Lavender asked.

“We simply need to know these things,” Parvati said.

“Why?” Hermione asked.

“Are you taken or aren’t you?” Lavender said, “A good brew would help you out, but you absolutely won’t do it, so, we’re making sure you see the available talent.”

“Not Malfoy!” Hermione said.

“Alright, alright, you’re not interested in him,” Parvati said, “But, have you committed, or are you still a virgin?”

“My sexuality is my own affair!” Hermione said.

“How many affairs do you plan to have?” Lavender asked.

Hermione knew their tactics, that Parvati and Lavender won’t relent, they’d ask tomorrow, or Hogwarts will invent it’s own tale.

“Fine, I did have—” Hermione started.

Whizz–Pop!

They coughed, but Hermione recognized the odor, Ron’s favorite dungbomb. Lavender and Parvati went for their four poster beds. Hermione’s eyes, though, landed on the enlarged Daily Prophet picture posted on the bulletin board, a moving picture that showed her, Harry, Ron, and Gia in her parents’ hot tub. Hermione sat, tried to lay down on the bed, before she jumped after feeling someone else beneath her bed covers; she stood back up.

“Anything wrong?” Lavender asked.

“N–No,” Hermione said, “Forgot pajamas—” She could see strands of flaming red hair, knew it was Ron beneath those covers.

“What’s it really?” Parvati said, “You sleep stark naked just like the rest of us!”

“Nothing!” Hermione said, trying to change the subject, “Where’s Seamus?”

“He’s out of the loop,” Lavender said, “Though you’re right.”

Lavender wrapped a towel around her waist, covering up her pussy, and left the dormitory.

“And what about Ron?” Parvati asked, as her hands held her bed curtains closed while facing Hermione.

Hands came out of the curtains, seeking her. Parvati moved, keeping her naked body between the bed and Hermione’s, which worked for half a moment.

Pfffpt!

“Ah, a lesbian?” Hermione asked, needling Parvati.

Parvati’s bed snorted.

“Sheets are just out of—” Parvati said.

“I understand, you’re tired, just open the curtains and go to sleep,” Hermione said, “But to accuse the sheets? That’s degrading as I’m sure the House–Elves are cringing to hear—”

Snorts, as fits of laughter were being suppressed, came from Hermione’s bed covers.

“Oh–h–oh—” exclaimed Ernie Macmillan, coming fast out of Parvati’s bed. With soft and loose testicles beneath the fluffy brown pubic hair, Ernie was peeing uncontrollably as he dashed for the bathroom.

“What’d you do?” Parvati demanded while her eyes glared at Hermione.

“Nothing,” Hermione said as she shrugged.

“Me, on the other hand…” Ron said as he pulled down the covers to Hermione’s bed, baring his head and chest.

“You!” Ernie said, returning, “I suppose—” he ripped the covers off, saw Ron being naked, the curly red pubic hair with the penis fully exposed. Ernie blushed as his own penis began to enlarge fast, springing a hard, stiff, erection for them all to see.

“So you are sleeping together,” Parvati said.

“Yes,” Ron said.

“And more?” Parvati asked.

“I’ll leave you to your imagination,” Ron said, “You two go to your bed, let me and Hermione have some peace.”

Ron sat up, pulled Hermione backward onto the bed, and closed the curtains.

“You just had to—” Hermione started.

Ron rolled her over, onto her back, in the middle of the mattress; he knelt, bent his head to avoid hitting the top, parted her legs and moved her butt to rest in front of his spread legs. Ron rested his soft todger on the lips of her vulva.

“It’s not like we kept it a secret,” Ron said, “It is a boarding school, it’s expected.”

“Which is why they made rules about it,” Hermione said.

“They want us to do it,” Ron said, “I mean, we’re a small enough population as it is, we need more, and what better place to encourage it?”

“Encouraged? It’s discouraged,” Hermione said.

“How much you think’d happen if the teachers endorsed it?” Ron said, “Nothing. Nope, better this way.”

Ron plied into her thighs, his dick began to stiffen and pushed into her.

“Don’t get me expelled!” Hermione snapped.

“Right,” Ron said. His dick shimmered red as it hardened inward.

“We could find out how much of it goes on,” Hermione said, as Ron began to thrust.

Ron, though, paid more attention to drilling, and Hermione waited until he pulled out the ejaculating penis.

“How?” Ron asked.

“Simple,” Hermione said, sitting up, “Ask the House–Elfs, they’d know.”

“Guess they would,” Ron said, moving to lay next to her, “Good spot to end the day on.”

“Did Harry, you know—” Hermione asked.

“Likely banging her right now,” Ron said.

* * *

A short while earlier, Gia watched as Kurt brought the last of the boxes from her room down the stairs.

“All yours now,” Kurt said, heading for the stairs to the basement.

Gia stood there, in the living room, naked.

“I was hoping for a nice, relaxing weekend,” Kristen said, “It felt like I was working overtime.”

“Sorry,” Gia said.

“For what?” Kristen said, “I know you’re going to grieve for your father, it’s why I cut you some slack on running starkers around town.”

“Oh,” Gia said.

“You do have friends here, so it was a good decision,” Kristen said, “When’s your boyfriend supposed to show up?”

“Any time,” Gia replied.

STOMP! STOMP!

“Give that BACK!” Richard shouted.

From the basement stairs, Andy led the way, clutching a circuit board, Richard chasing her. Richard’s shoes kept thumping as he chased the barefooted Andy; his T–shirt billowed, his boxers moved as he pursued across the living room, into the kitchen. Kristen sighed, rolled her eyes for a moment.

“Enjoy,” Gia said, heading for the stairs.

“I have to decide when to step in and when to stay out,” Kristen said.

Gia went up the stairs, opened the door and went into her bedroom; she immediately closed it, knowing that Harry should be showing up as it was already past eight. She laid on top of the bed covers, sprawled out, facing upward.

Hoot!

Gia glanced at Hedwig, seemingly waiting too, though they could both hear the muffled arguing and bickering from below.

“How long does it take?” Gia asked Hedwig, her eyes now focused on the ceiling.

A crash came from below.

“UPSTAIRS!” came Kristen’s shout.

Footsteps on the stairs, a moment of quiet. 

Pfffpt! Pfffpt!

Rapidly, the door opened and closed; Richard came in naked, leaned back against the closed door. Richard eyes landed on Gia, fixed for a moment at the vulva that was partially open, showing a bit of the vaginal wall, and his penis quickly stiffened, his hard circumcised erection jutting outward toward her.

“Blows big time!” Richard said, “Jen’s on restriction, so I can’t go over to her place.”

“It happens,” Gia said, “Well, there is Andy—”

“Gross!” Richard exclaimed.

Gia giggled at Richard’s look of indignation.

“I need to change with Harry about to—” Gia started.

“It totally sucks!” Richard said, not realizing her tone, “Tomorrow I was going to take—”

“Harry will be along, and you’re in my room, like that,” Gia said.

“Nearly fifty quid, in advance!” Richard said, not paying attention.

Gia threw a pillow at Richard, it bounced off, as they heard Andy’s scream.

“Taking a dump in her room, totally justified,” Richard said, “I just wish Jen—”

Harry appeared directly in front of Richard, dressed in his school uniform facing Gia, except his hands had already lowered his trousers down to his knees. Harry fumbled, stumbled backward, where Richard’s hard cock dug against Harry’s butt crack. Harry tried to move forward, stumbled, tripped over Richard’s feet. Gia’s eyes went from the overdressed Harry to Richard; Richard was rubbing his eyes, blinking extensively.

“Do you mind—?” Richard said.

“Sorry,” Harry said as he stood up. He removed his shoes and trousers to leave him naked below the waist.

“How—?!” Richard stammered.

“A trick,” Gia said, trying to cover it up.

“You came out this air!” Richard said, “The laws of Physics—”

“Don’t explain everything!” Harry quipped.

“You broke them—ironclad!” Richard stated.

“Pay attention—” Gia said.

“I did!” Richard demanded, “What happened?!”

Harry sighed, walked over to Hedwig, stroked the feathers. Richard stared at Harry’s bare buttocks that were showing below the white dress–shirt, watched as Harry’s hand reached in between the cheeks to start pulling out the long handle. Gia rolled over to the side of the bed.

“I don’t want to do a Memory Charm on you,” Harry said, turning around, “So, you got to swear, absolutely swear, on your life, to never squeal to anybody about this.”

Flash!

With a pull and a flick, Harry’s wand was drawn, aimed at Richard; Richard flew up into the air, landed hard onto the bed. Harry moved, knelt forward, bringing his knees to the edge of the bed, and leaned over. Harry’s bottle green eyes looked down onto Richard’s hazel eyes.

“I’m a wizard,” Harry stated, “I attend Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry—magic.”

“Alright,” Richard said, “I get it!”

“Are you alright?” Gia asked.

“Yeah,” Richard said, “This takes getting used to.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry said as he stood back up. He removed his dress shirt off, exposing his chest.

“Isn’t it like cool?” Gia asked.

“I guess,” Richard said.

Harry sat on the bed next to Gia.

“Magic’s an ability,” Gia said, “Like some people are good at, say, jumping, Harry has magic. Took me a bit to adjust to, but now I see a handsome boyfriend.” Gia put her hand on Harry’s genitals, immediately started playing with them, the erection formed fast.

“Wicked,” Richard said, “Scary too.”

Knock! Knock!

“Yes?” Gia answered.

Andy cracked the door open.

“Yo Dickhead,” Andy said to Richard, “On the pull?” She turned to Harry. “Scored a pair—”

“Bloody Ant,” Richard asked, laced with sarcasm, but standing up, “Want something?”

“Your dog is on Cody’s favorite chair,” Andy said to Harry.

“Explain it to Snuffles,” Harry replied.

“It’s just a dog!” Andy protested.

“Threaten him with Sirius Black,” Harry replied.

Gia chuckled. Richard’s eyes tried to figure out the grin on Harry’s face.

“Where is he—?” Andy asked.

Harry shrugged.

“Try it stupid dick breath—!” Richard snapped.

Andy punched Richard in the stomach, Richard gave chase, and both left the bedroom.

“Well, you came back,” Gia said, laying back.

“Yep,” Harry said.

Harry went over, closed the door, and climbed onto the bed. He squatted next to her head, buttocks to his heels, knees forward and apart; leaving her to be looking straight up at his hard erection jutting outward, testicles hanging, both trying to obscure the view of his face. His eyes focused on the foreskin retracting, leaving his pink glans to loiter, he chuckled.

“What?” Gia asked.

“Remember me being all self–conscious, exposing myself like this when we first met?” Harry said, “Man, how things change.”

“Well,” Gia said as her finger traced the edge of his glans, “Not letting you off easy.”

“That’s fine,” Harry said, leaning forward. His loose bollocks rested on her lips, the ridge of his urethrae rested on her chin, as his hands brought her feet closer, worked to massage them.

Gia was a bit confused, she thought he liked an easy score.

“It’s not just about sex,” Harry said, “It’s about _us_.”

She lifted his balls enough to talk.

“Been almost a week on that doctor’s prescription,” Gia said, “Think we can let it slide.”

“I’m grateful,” Harry said, his hands worked her legs, “Reminded me that there are other things.”

“Such as?” Gia asked, worried.

“Lemme try again.” His hands worked their way into her stomach, massaging inward. “Remember _before_ we started banging? We did other things, you even stuck a hot dog up your pussy for me!”

“Yes,” Gia replied. She definitely remembered that.

“Sex’s great with you,” Harry said, “But once we started, it’s all we’re really doing. The doctor reminded us to rediscover other things.”

“What do you mean?” Gia asked, concerned.

“Varieties of happiness,” Harry said, pulling his hands away from her boobs, “We got stuck on a single flavor. So, shake things up.”

Harry moved again, forward, dragging his hard cock between their skin, and his tongue touched her left toes. Gia giggled as he licked.

“Had me worried,” Gia confessed.

“‘orry,” Harry apologized as his tongue worked across her foot, exploring.

“What are you doing?” Gia asked.

“‘icking,” Harry said, his tongue now moved to her right toes, across the nail polish, over the bunions, as he dragged his wet flesh across.

“I can feel that,” Gia said, “Why?”

“‘ot ‘aying,” Harry said, his tongue moving up her right shin.

Harry moved to the left, carried it up to the top of her left thigh before working the right.

“Missed a spot,” Gia said as she felt his tongue go around her pelvis, ignoring it, as he worked up her stomach.

“‘kay,” Harry muttered, the tongue still exploring, working around, before it landed on her naval.

“It’s enough,” Gia muttered, giggles breaking out.

“Ah,” Harry said, the tongue moved tighter around her belly button.

Fits of laughter broke out of her mouth, Harry sighed, and the tongue moved back down to feel between her legs. Every strand of stubble that she needed to shave met his tongue, and he tongue went around her clitoris. Gia saw the hard testicles nearly in her eyes but on her forehead, the ridge went right down to meet her nose; she stuck her tongue out, felt the fulcrum where the ridge met his slit.

Harry moved his tongue inward, massaging, plodding, into her walls.

“Ew…” Harry muttered, but he kept at it.

Gia teased on his hard erection, her tongue rubbed. Her nose felt the pressure, the urethrae moving his juice forward, pumping it, sending the hot sticky mess between them, but mostly getting her neck as she felt a brief attempt of herself trying to bear down, a hint at an orgasm when he stopped. He barely had time to get off her, when he promptly fell to sleep on the bed.

Hoot!

Gia got off the bed, stroked Hedwig’s feathers.

“Just pretend you didn’t see that, alright?” Gia asked.

Hoot!

Gia turned off the light, climbed onto the bed back to nearly her previous position, except she went a bit further to put her head on the remaining pillow. Her hand plied into Harry’s scrotum, his hot seed still on them both, and she let herself fall to sleep with her boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thank you to those that have read the story so far, I hope you've enjoyed it. Leave reviews, kudos, or even subscribe! As you can tell, it's at 79k and we're just getting to Hogwarts, this is NOT a short story.


	14. Rumors

Harry and Gia woke Monday morning to a push and a prod.

“Harry,” Gia muttered.

Another push, and a shove, Harry rolled over, his eyes opened to see the dark black Snuffles nosing him. Richard hand on the door knob, while wearing just a jockstrap.

“He wanted in—badly,” Richard said.

“I would’ve have appreciated another hour—” Harry said.

Snuffles growled.

“He’s worse than Pussy Ant,” Richard said.

“Bit early,” Gia said, “Still, good habit, I suppose.”

Harry yawned.

“Tell you what, I was about to go for a run,” Richard said, “Care to join me Harry?”

“Go for it,” Gia suggested.

“Sure,” Harry said, getting up to join Richard.

Harry followed Richard down the stairs. They went out the door, stopped in front of the house on the sidewalk. With Harry naked and Richard in shoes and his jockstrap, they began to jog. Harry’s buttocks flexed, his testicles swung, his dick flopped about as he moved. Richard’s jockstrap let a bit of the bulge sway, but held it tight.

“Sorry about butting in last night,” Richard said, “Uncalled for.’

“It shouldn’t have happened,” Harry said, “Technically, I’m supposed to wipe your memory.”

“Blimey, are you serious?” Richard asked.

“Yep,” Harry said, “I won’t, I think they do more harm than good, and I think I can trust you with the secret; Gia does.”

“And you carry that stick?” Richard asked.

“It’s a _wand_ ,” Harry said, “Supposed to, because one can’t be too careful.”

“So, why haven’t I heard of this before?” Richard asked.

They paused by a trail, caught their breath.

“If you remember the witch hunts,” Harry said, bending over, “You’d understand why we’d keep it secret, keep history from repeating itself. So we don’t advertise.”

“Sorry, didn’t think of that—oh,” Richard said, eyes latched onto Harry’s soft penis.

Harry’s foreskin had already retracted, he began to pee.

“So, there are laws, I’m supposed to hide it,” Harry said, “If a Muggle—that’s you, a non–magic folk—happen to see it, I’m supposed to wipe your memory.”

“Gia?” Richard asked.

“Knows,” Harry said, “I mean, I’m dating, she’s got a right to know.”

Harry began to jog, letting the streak of wet continue as he went onto the trail.

“Yet, you’re making me feel overdressed and ready to piss without a—spell?” Richard said.

“Whole summer like this,” Harry said, shaking his penis, “I like it.”

Pfffpt!

“No hiding that either,” Richard said.

“Nope,” Harry said, “So, hadn’t seen you do this before, it’s new?”

“I want to do cross country again this year,” Richard said, “With school starting next week, figured it was best to get back into shape before tryouts.”

Richard’s jockstrap only held his genitals, his butt was free and clear, the buttocks flexing like Harry’s as they ran.

“Called me a Mug—whatever,” Richard said, “As if there was a problem with that.”

“You’re a muggle and so is Gia,” Harry said, “Some wizards are downright racist, consider us to be superior, and they despise Muggles, view them as beasts.”

They came to a busy intersection, a silver haired lady sat on the bench in the bus stop. Her eyes studied Harry’s crotch.

“You’re banging Gia,” Richard said.

“Yep,” Harry said. His penis began to elongate as the silver haired lady watched him stiffen, the erection rapidly jutted outward. “Clearly, I don’t share that view.”

The pedestrian light changed, they ran across the crosswalk.

“You don’t seem different,” Richard said, glancing over at Harry’s hard erection beneath the pubic hair, “Quite ordinary.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, “It’s what I’m going for.”

“STOP!” Richard barked.

Harry stopped with Richard.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Somethings hanging out of your butt,” Richard said.

Harry reached, felt the wood, pulled it out, his wand.

“It’s supposed to stay in there,” Harry grumbled, pushing it back in, and he felt the pain, “Ow!” He pulled it out.

“There’s more,” Richard said.

Harry felt it, the ridge of latex, and he pulled; it was the oversized condom that was put into his anus back in Brussels.

“I was just going to look for a loo,” Richard said, “But what were you planning to do?”

Harry held up the slick, brown coated condom. “Supposed to be a prison pocket, store my wand when I was running around naked.”

“I need a good bush—” Richard said, glancing around, he began to blush fast and deep.

A drip came from Richard’s bulge in his jockstrap, wet was spreading, seeping across it.

“It happens,” Harry said.

Richard, however, had let the embarrassment bind him still as he pissed his jockstrap. Harry pulled down on Richard’s elastic band, let his peeing penis out; Richard kept pouring for a moment.

“Two cups of coffee was a mistake,” Richard said, hands uncertain what to do with the jockstrap now that his penis and scrotum were showing.

“Drop them?” Harry suggested.

“Yeah,” Richard said, letting the jockstrap drop to the pavement, he stepped out of them, “Better than what you’ve got.”

“Too much to lose,” Harry said, “I’ll—” he grabbed the jockstrap, bundled it with the condom and the wand “—there.”

“Good,” Richard said.

Though their bodies, their chests, and legs were larger; eyes passing by kept checking their flailing genitals as they ran back for 26 Oak.

“So, Ron and Hermione?” Richard asked, hand on the knob of the green front door.

“Wizard and a witch,” Harry said.

“It’ll take a bit to accept,” Richard said, “But I’ll manage, and you’re still a friend.”

“Thank you,” Harry said as they went into the house.

Richard followed Harry up the stairs; Harry dropped the jockstrap, went into the bedroom, leaned over, kissed Gia, before he grabbed the Portkey and wand. Harry activated it.

* * *

Ron laid on Hermione’s four poster, head toward the foot of the bed, watched Hermione geting dressed.

“Gotta get ready,” Hermione said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ron said, grabbing her spent towel.

Ron got up, cinched the towel around his bare waist, went down the stairs of the girls’ dormitories.

“Seen Harry?” asked Colin Creevy, doing a similar run down from the fifth year girls’ dormitory.

“Shagging my sister?” Ron asked as they went down the stairs.

Colin’s hand slipped, the towel fell, showed him to be naked.

“I’m being careful!” Colin protested.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ron said.

They both went over to the other stairs and climbed those. Colin went into the fifth year boys’ while Ron went up to the sixth years’. Ron tossed the old towel to the floor, went into the small communal shower with two shower heads, stepped under one and started up the water.

“Good morning,” Harry said, getting into the other.

“Slept well?” Ron asked.

“Yep,” Harry said.

“Good,” Harry said, glanced at Ron’s buttocks, “Butt needs work.”

“Ta,” Ron said, rubbing his washcloth harder between the cheeks, “Any good sex?”

“Yep,” Harry said, “Took your suggestion, surprised her.”

“Hadn’t actually tried it myself,” Ron said.

“You should,” Harry replied.

They dressed, grabbed their book bags, and went down the stairs.

“Hi Harry,” Colin Creevy said, following as Harry and Ron left the Gryffindor Tower.

“Hello,” Harry replied.

“So you did have sex, right?” Colin asked.

“It wasn’t with you,” Ron said, wondering.

“Wasn’t meaning _that_ ,” Colin said, “I know you spent two months on the road with your girlfriend Harry, and I thought I heard that you did score—”

“It’s not about a score,” Harry said, “YES! I’ve had SEX!”

Irritated, Harry walked faster. He entered the Great Hall.

“Hey Harry,” Cho Chung said, “Is it true?”

“What?” Harry stammered.

“I mean, how was it, your first time?” Cho said, “You lost your virginity, right?”

“It’s none of anybody’s business!” Harry exclaimed.

“I heard aloe’s good,” Cho whispered.

“For what?” Harry asked.

“Um…the rash,” Cho asked.

“What rash?” Harry asked.

“I understand if you’d rather keep that to yourself,” Cho said.

Harry walked to the Gryffindor Table, went to sit down.

“Potter!” Ernie Macmillan said, “Suggest a soak in hot water and dry it clean!”

Snickers.

“Sorry, they’re just concerned,” Neville said, “Putting honey on your todger should help.”

“Why would I do that?” Harry said, hands gesturing as he sat down.

“You know,” Neville whispered, “The burning.”

Neville moved next to Seamus and Dean.

“Why the _advice_?” Harry muttered, “And honey to my dick?”

“Dunno,” Ron said while switching the plate of pancakes for his empty one. Ron smeared butter and poured on syrup.

“Gia might like it,” Hermione said.

“Thank you,” Harry said, “Sex tips for breakfast is a great idea.”

Harry grabbed a strawberry, ate it. Hermione poured cereal into her bowl, began to work at that, while Professor McGonagall came over, handed them their schedules.

“Well,” Ron said, “Hagrid first, then Defense. So, we get to spend the whole morning with Hermione.”

“What?” Hermione snapped.

“You make them interesting,” Ron said, he licked his lips as he looked at her face.

“I don’t doubt that,” Hermione snapped.

“He gave you a compliment,” Harry said, innocently, “Though he thinks that outfit’s totally unnecessary.”

“What he said,” Ron said.

Seamus got up first.

“We talked it over,” Seamus said to Harry, “Best if you saw Madam Pomfrey right away, you know, before things get worse.”

“I’m FINE!” Harry snapped.

“Delude yourself then,” Seamus said, “Good day.”

Seamus left.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked Hermione.

“Dunno, except we need to move to get to class,” Hermione said.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood up, left.

* * *

They made it to Hagrid’s Hut for their Care of Magical Creatures class. Sun peaking through the clouds, its rays cast a modest shadow across the waiting and smiling Hagrid.

“Uh–oh,” Ron whispered to Harry.

“Means it’ll be fun,” Harry replied.

Everybody else, however, had betrayed their suspicions in their looks, not–so–pleased at what Hagrid likely had planed, including Malfoy. It took a moment for Harry to see that there was a bit of a gap, as people like Seamus had drawn away, giving more of a wide berth to Harry than to Hagrid.

“Now,” Hagrid said, “yeh should open up your books.”

“How?” Draco Malfoy said, “It burns when we try.”

Harry, through, reached into his book bag, pulled out his Sizzling Book of Dragons , opened it, and shot Malfoy a grin — Malfoy returned with a glare of mad rictus of rage at Harry. Except for Ron and Hermione, both of whom had their books out, the rest of them were soaking in bags of water. Hagrid beamed at Harry.

“Seems that arry figured it out,” Hagrid said.

“With third degree burns no doubt,” Malfoy snapped.

“Aloe is good for burns,” Padma Patil said.

“Not that type of burning,” Neville said, “Honey, Harry, Honey!”

“To open it,” Harry said, trying to derail the other topic, “Just stun it!”

“Should’ve known,” Malfoy said, with sarcasm, “Stunning—!”

“Just like you do to your bitch,” Theodore Nott said.

“Stunnin’s s’mething ever’ proper Wizard should know,” Hagrid said.

Harry and Ron stifled their laughs, Hermione mimicked a camera, all three were memorizing Malfoy’s look of horror.

“Most important magical creature is the dragon,” Hagrid said, “Which is why we’re going teh spend the entire year studying them. If lucky, I might be able teh get some as class projects.”

“Doubt Dumbledore knows,” Ron whispered to Harry. Harry snickered.

“What’s so funny Ron?” Hagrid asked.

“When are we getting them?” Ron asked, saving himself, “Eggs, Hatch–lings, or fully grown?”

Malfoy returned his glare at Ron.

“Not next week,” Hagrid said, “Eggs’d be best; Hatchlings though may ‘ave teh do.”

Hagrid lectured on the basics of dragons and their magic. At the end, the class returned to the castle.

“That Oaf teaching about dragons!” Malfoy complained, “Doubt he’s ever raised one.”

Harry and Ron remained silent as Malfoy went down the ground floor corridor; instead, they went up the marble stairs, Hermione and Neville behind them. Harry went into the boys’ bathroom, Neville followed. Harry immediately opened his fly, let the penis hang free; even with Madam Malkin’s alteration, there was no substitute for the real thing, to let the penis swing, even if it were only a handful of paces to the wall urinal. Harry gripped his penis, aimed.

“Use this,” Neville said, handing over a bottle of honey, “Smear all over.”

“Why?” Harry asked, grabbing the bottle.

“You know, the burning,” Neville said.

“What burning?” Harry asked.

“When you pee,” Neville said.

“You use this?” Harry asked.

“No,” Neville replied.

“Why should I smear this on your dick?” Harry asked.

“Your dick,” Neville said.

“Are you planning to suck my dick?” Harry asked, handing the bottle back to Neville.

“No,” Neville replied.

“Watch!” Harry said.

Neville’s eyes followed, watched as Harry gripped the dick, pissed against the metal wall, the stream collecting in the trough below.

“That doesn’t hurt?” Neville asked.

“No!” Harry exclaimed.

Harry went over to the sink, washed his hands.

“Maybe the symptom has yet to occur,” Neville said, “It will.”

Harry restored his trousers, left the bathroom. They came to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, where Professor Lupin pulled Harry aside.

“I’m telling you this so you give her your best of respect, understood?” Professor Lupin said, “Nymphadora Tonks was brought in specifically to teach _you_. This subject is too important for you, so we’re not going to skimp. First, she is new blood, you need that, as we all have our bias, our strengths, and our weaknesses. Second, it’ll avoid the usual unpleasantness during my monthly…ritual. However, don’t think I’m unavailable, I’ll still be around, if you need a second opinion, that sort.”

Harry took a moment. “Thank you,” Harry said.

“Don’t be late,” Professor Lupin said.

Harry went to the classroom, entered, as Professor Tonks was reading roll call.

“Got your heat pad Potter?” Seamus asked.

“Ignore them,” Ron said, “They seem to think you’ve got something.”

“Thanks Ron,” Harry said, sarcastically, “I don’t think I could’ve worked that out for myself.”

Harry couldn’t tell what he was being accused of having, though based on Neville’s insistence, Harry reasoned he didn’t want to know, except that it involved a painful rash and, apparently, a burning sensation when pissing.

“Please pay attention,” Professor Tonks said, “You must be Harry Potter.”

“That’s me,” Harry said.

“I knew your parents,” Tonks said, “I still miss them.”

Harry remained quiet, studied the expression on Tonks face as she finished the roll call.

“In previous years, you studied about the Unforgivables,” Tonks said, “This year, we start by learning to actually cast them; it’s not the only thing as there will be more, but we’ll cover that when we reach the material.”

“Spiders?” Ron asked.

“Here, line up,” Professor Tonks said, “We’ll just go against the wall today.”

They lined up against the other wall, facing the first.

“Are we really—?” Hermione started.

“Cruciatus Curse,” Professor Tonks said, “Neville.”

“No,” Neville said, sitting down, “I’m not doing it.”

“Me neither,” Harry said, sitting down next to Neville.

“Thanks,” Neville said.

“Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Potter!” Professor Tonks exclaimed.

“I will sit this one out,” Harry said, “I will not cast it.”

“Then you will lose five points each,” Professor Tonks said, “Do not interrupt.”

“Sitting on a breakout is painful!” Seamus advised.

“Mind if we’re in your office instead?” Harry asked.

Neville and Harry went up the steps, into the office. Inside, pictures hung on the wall, Harry recognized one with a crowd, and some of the familiar faces on it.

“My parents,” Harry said, pointing, “Lily and James Potter. I see Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.”

“Mine,” Neville said, “Until Bellatrix Lestrange…”

“Cruciatus,” Harry said, “I know.”

“You do?” Neville said, “No you don’t, not how they were tortured, and are in St. Mungo’s ever since, that my Grandmother’s raised me as long as I can remember?”

“I mean, of it,” Harry said, “And only enough to understand why you couldn’t do that lesson, same as me, except you still have parents that you can visit.”

“They do not recognize me,” Neville said.

A door opened, behind them.

“I think they do, part of them has to,” Harry said.

“Gran tries convincing me of the same,” Neville said.

“You see all the folks in that picture?” Professor Tonks asked.

“Yeah,” Neville said.

“They fought You–Know–Who before you were even conceived,” Professor Tonks said, “All honorable, and I’m proud to have been at their sides. I could even be the reason that you were even born, Harry.”

“That’s my parents’ doing,” Harry said.

“They were on assignment, for months, away from each other,” Professor Tonks said, “Death Eaters at our heals, but your mother wanted to celebrate Halloween, thought we shouldn’t abandon traditions. Sirius and Remus cooked up this plan, wanted to give them a gift—we gave it to them. We patrolled outside the small hut while James and Lily celebrated the night away; I think it involved a bottle of Firewhiskey, with no condoms on hand. She was pregnant shortly thereafter, with you.”

“Oh,” Harry said.

“She was understandably worried,” Professor Tonks said, “Pregnant and on the run in this line of work is a very difficult lifestyle. Molly Weasley gave some sage advice, and Lily was proud of her first born son, wanted more.”

“She didn’t get the chance,” Harry said.

“I was there the first time she had to change your nappy,” Professor Tonks said, “Know that your first shit was green?”

“Like my eyes?” Harry asked.

“Deeper green,” Professor Tonks said, “My point is, I understand your history, so I understand why you might be hesitant to cast the curses, but you need to learn them.”

“Doubt it,” Harry said.

“I had to kill two while protecting your parents as they conceived you,” Professor Tonks said, “Death Eaters like dealing death, but they don’t like theirs being delivered.”

“Think I can imagine why,” Neville said.

“As makeup for skipping,” Professor Tonks said, “I want an essay, at least a whole roll of parchment, on why you might need to use an Unforgivable, techniques to get yourself to be able to cast one, and how to deal with the aftermath. Interviews with at least three people, at least one that has, and one that had reason to but didn’t cast one; include your perspectives on whether you felt it was justified or not. I do not count as a subject. Your essay and interview notes are due by Friday’s class. Understood?”

“Yes,” Neville said.

“Guess so,” Harry said.

“You, especially you Harry Potter, must be prepared for what is to come,” Professor Tonks said, “Class is nearly over, so best to get moving.”

Harry and Neville left the office via the back door, entered the corridor.

“Thank you for sticking up for me,” Neville said, “Always good to do it with a friend.”

“Yep,” Harry said.

They headed to Charms.

* * *

Later, they left the Charms classroom.

“Don’t mind my asking,” Seamus said to Harry, “How’d you get your stiffy into your girl if its covered in warts?”

“Dunno,” Harry said, “Never had to.”

“I mean, you’ve got experience,” Seamus said.

“My todger’s not covered in warts!” Harry said, “Need to see?”

“No,” Seamus said, “Of course not.”

“Keep talking and we’ll have to check _yours_ out,” Harry grumbled.

Seamus moved ahead, caught up with Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch–Fletchley.

“It’s not so bad,” Ron said.

“Why is _my_ sex life the only thing this castle can talk about?” Harry asked.

“Give it a break,” Ron said, “Just the first day, tomorrow, it’ll be something else.”

“Don’t think about it,” Hermione said.

They walked by the school armor, all of them were touching themselves inappropriately while blowing out wads of gum.

“Keep up the good work Peeves,” Harry said.

“Yeah!” Ron said.

They entered the Great Hall where Hermione took delivery of The Daily Prophet . She looked it over as she sat down; Ron watched her fingers ruffling the paper. Harry, however, grabbed the paper, read it.

Monday, 2 September, 1996

The Daily Prophet

Victor Fallerschain New Minister of Magic

In a ceremony this morning, Victor Fallerschain was formally installed as Minister of Magic. Victor Fallerschain. He immediately gave his inaugural speech.

“Today marks a bold new era for the Ministry and the Wizarding community. Under my reign, the Ministry will devote itself to empower ever Wizard and Witch to overcome their challenges in life. Like them, the Ministry faces challenges. Under my predecessor, expenses increased which forced taxes to be raised no less than fifty eight times.

“Under my reign, processes will be streamlined, expenses will be trimmed, burdens will be lifted, and greater security will be had for all. These are among the many improvements that I am committed to bring to the Ministry.

“Now, my first official act as Minister of Magic will be to address a serious concern among my fellow Wizards and Witches. This concerns the threatening encroachment on Diagon Alley from undue influences. As my first act, I hereby ban all further Dark Arts shops from opening on Diagon Alley. The existing one, Fun and Power , will remove itself at the end of its current lease in two years.

“I look forward to changing each of your lives in the future. In this pursuit, I have reluctantly accepted an appointment to the vacancy on the board of governors for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry . I hope that my presence will leave a permanent mark on the children of our future. Good day.”

This indeed marks a new era of the Ministry. Even as an opposition leader, Victor Fallerschain held the respect of those serving under them.

Fallerschain’s Executive Assistant, Percy Weasley, commented, “The Ministry benefits have not been wasted on him and he has proven to be one of the Ministry’s larger investments. He is willing to take risks. I find that his core values show through in his work. His full capabilities have only been recently discovered. The quality of his work is well known. Mr. Fallerschain is not afraid to ask questions that check the assumptions of others and he appears ever productive and has been seen dropping in at off hours.”

“Well, he’s in,” Harry asked, “Wonder what he’ll do differently?”

“Probably what they always do after promises of reforms,” Ron said, “Fire the department heads, bring in new blood, and stifle hopes of promotions; either that or a Chinese fire drill. Dad’s hoping his two person office is small enough to avoid real scrutiny. If anything, he needs more people like he’s been requesting for years under Fudge.”

Ginny entered the Great Hall, came over.

“Is it true?” Ginny asked, “Does Harry actually have Herpes?”

“That’s the disease?” Harry stammered.

“Wish you could’ve warned me!” Ginny snapped.

“Hey!” Harry barked.

Ginny, however, went over, sat with Colin.

“Sorry Dude,” Ron said, “Should tell Gia.”

“I don’t HAVE it!” Harry snapped.

“I overheard it in the girls’ lavatory,” Hermione said, “Should I list all the other possibilities?”

“No!” Harry said.

“Check him yourself if that’d help,” Ron said to Hermione.

“An exam is out of the question,” Harry said, putting plate aside.

“I recommend extra fluid intake Mr. Potter,” Professor McGonagall said as she passed up on the way to the Staff Table.

“I don’t have…” Harry put his head down onto the table.

“Look on the bright side,” Ron said, “All these people interested in your body.”

“You’re not helping Ron,” Harry said as he stood up, “See you in Transfiguration.”

As Harry crossed the Entrance Hall, Madam Pomfrey came from up the stairs.

“There you are Mr. Potter,” Madam Pomfrey said, “You were supposed to see me this morning, come with me.”

Other students nearby gossiped as Harry was led up the stairs and into the Hospital Wing.

“I feel perfectly fine!” Harry protested.

“That is for me to determine,” Madam Pomfrey said, pointing, “Behind that screen and get undressed.”

“I don’t have to,” Harry said.

“Your health is my responsibility so long as you’re a student of Hogwarts,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Harry went behind the screen that surrounded a bed.

“Faster,” Madam Pomfrey said, coming in, “You could’ve died in the hands of those muggles last week.”

“I survived,” Harry said, pulling his shirt off.

“And have some pumpkin juice,” Madam Pomfrey said, handing over a flask.

Harry drank from it.

“Not everything is a potion around here,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Keep drinking.”

Harry drank as his trousers fell. He stepped out, stood there, naked. Her eyes surveyed him, from his bottle green eyes, down the smooth chest, to the penis dangling beneath his pubic hair. She reached, lifted his bollocks.

“Hey!” Harry exclaimed.

“I don’t see the rash,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“That stupid gossip?” Harry said, “It’s dirty lies!”

“I hear the rumor and so I’m obligated to act,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Lay down.”

Harry laid on the bed, facing upward.

“You know better, the other side,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Harry turned to face down, his butt in the air, anticipating the next sensation, and he felt it. Cold glass wove into his anus as she pushed in the rectal thermometer.

“Muggles use the mouth,” Harry said.

“Less accurate,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Harry’s butt apparently knew the proper response, as he felt the gas pressure build up.

Pop!

The rectal thermometer shot out of his butt, over the curtains.

Shatter!

“Mr. Potter!” Madam Pomfrey said.

“Treating me like an infant,” Harry complained.

“This is a full examination,” Madam Pomfrey said, “You can make this go a lot easier on yourself.”

Harry felt the muscles clench as she muttered, heard, smelled himself begin to defecate.

“Why?” Harry muttered.

“Samples,” Madam Pomfrey said.

She rested a tray on the stand, one filled with his brown sludge, and a washcloth cleaned his anus; again, a glass thermometer went in.

“This time, relax,” Madam Pomfrey said.

She held it in for a minute, removed it.

“Stand back up,” she said.

Harry stood, his dick was now stiff, the hard erection jutted forward. She held his hard cock with one hand, retracted his foreskin, inspected. She brought her wand to his shaft, muttered. A tray levitated in front as Harry felt the spasm, began to ejaculate.

“That’s private!” Harry seethed.

“If you had every disease that I’ve heard today, you’d be dead,” Madam Pomfrey said, “However, I must check, and yes, it can be in this.”

She brought a special spectacle to her eye, brought it to an inch of his glans, looked down the sides of the shaft before spreading his cum filled slit open. She pulled back, felt into his scrotum.

“I could’ve just tossed off myself!” Harry said.

“That’s simply inappropriate for a young man to do!” Madam Pomfrey said.

Harry felt the pressure in his bladder and pushed. His jet came online, power washing outward, it caught a bit on her blouse.

“Mr. Potter!” she exclaimed, quickly moving the jar to catch his stream, “Keep it up.”

“Need me to puke?” Harry asked.

“Need to?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“No,” Harry said.

“Diseases collect in your bodily secretions,” Madam Pomfrey said, “This—” she held up the tray with his white semen “—is the best measure of your sexual health, while your urine is good for a number of maladies including infection or imbalances. I will have to collect again, tonight, after dinner for a second evaluation.”

“Not again,” Harry said.

“Now for the standard exam,” Madam Pomfrey said, waving her wand, “Faster, less intrusive, but not as good as old fashioned samples.”

“Wonder which one has it worse?” Ron asked from outside the screen, hearing the noises and protests from within.

“You may get dressed now,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Harry had his trousers and shoes on when he left the privacy of the screen.

“Nice seeing you,” Hermione said.

Harry left his shirt untucked as he put it on. He grabbed his bookbag, left the Hospital Wing.

“So it’s true!” Malfoy said, “Can’t be the sex.”

“At least I’m capable of doing it properly!” Harry said, “You’re going in for an afternoon stiffy?”

“Give him a break,” Ron said, “He needs help wanking—”

“You’ll pay.” Malfoy spat at them.

Malfoy went down the stairs, while Harry, Ron, and Hermione went for their next classroom.

“They’re all getting out of the way,” Harry said, noticing group after group of students either avoiding or moving to other side of the corridor, ducking into empty classrooms.

“Rumor is you’re contagious,” Hermione said, “Highly contagious.”

* * *

Harry landed in Gia’s bedroom that evening. Harry was already naked, clothes in hand, and he dropped them to the floor. Harry went out of the empty bedroom, down the steps, before going back up. He glanced through Richard’s open door, saw the commotion on the roof deck, so he went through. Richard, Jen, and Gia were lounging naked in the hot tub, Snuffles laid on the deck beneath.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Harry said, slipping into the water, sitting on Gia’s lap.

Harry felt her breasts cushioning his back while her hands worked his thighs.

“Tough day?” Richard asked.

“Might say that, mind if I had Gia to myself?” Harry asked.

Richard and Jen got out, went into his bedroom, closed the door.

“That bad?” Gia asked.

“Bloody hell!” Harry grumbled, “Some jackass decided it’d be a great idea to make them all believe I have Herpes!”

Gia pushed Harry off of her.

“I got checked, twice!” Harry said, “I’m not telling you about it, only that I’d rather it be _you_ examining me! I’m clean, by the way.”

“It’s only the first day,” Gia said.

“I know!” Harry said, “Hoping tomorrow’s better. Though, there was an interesting suggestion.”

“What’s that?” Gia asked.

“Honey on my dick,” Harry said, “Interested?”

“Maybe,” Gia said.

“Disproven, not a good remedy,” Harry said, “Except it’d do good for our moods, wanna give it a try?”

“Maybe not,” Gia said, “Maybe later.”

“Oh?” Harry asked.

“It’d be messy,” Gia said.

“My dick’s a messy sort anyways,” Harry said.

“You’re not stiff,” Gia said, her foot feeling his crotch, his soft dick in the middle.

“Had to squirt it, twice, for exams,” Harry said, “It’s spent.”

Harry moved over, straddled her legs as he sat on her knees. He massaged into her chest, held her breasts.

“Thought you were—” Gia started.

“I’d rather be soft with you than anywhere else,” Harry said.

Harry’s hands began to explore.

* * *

“So where is this school of Harry’s?” Richard asked Gia, they were in the dining room Tuesday afternoon. Gia was running a bit of charcoal onto the canvas laying in front of her, tracing a likeness of Richard’s face as she had already captured the bare chest above the table line.

Snuffles began to growl.

“Scotland,” Gia said.

“And he travels that far everyday?” Richard asked.

“To him, it’s nothing,” Gia said, “The trip isn’t very long; about as much time as it takes for him to strip naked, which, of course, I like.”

Bark!

“I think that was intended for you,” Richard said.

“A bit secretive,” Gia said, “Naturally gets upset.”

“Is it my imagination or does Snuffles actually understand the conversation?” Richard asked.

“Probably your imagination,” Harry said, entering the dining room. He was naked, as per usual around there, though he had his school bookbag to his side, strap over the shoulder.

Harry made no effort to conceal, since he felt at ease with this crowd. Instead, his eyes surveyed her breasts as Gia was naked on the chair, his dick began to sprout.

“Bit early,” Gia said.

Harry’s fresh erection swayed as he walked over to her.

“Dinner? I can do that here,” Harry said as he sat down next to her, his testicles hung over the edge of the chair.

“Your dog!” Richard snapped as he got up. He was wearing just a pair of green and blue plaid boxers.

“Quite intelligent,” Harry said, “I’d do as he wants if I were you.”

Richard left the dining room. Snuffles closed that door, walked past Harry and Gia to close the kitchen door, before going around to the other side. Sirius loomed as he stood up.

“Richard is asking questions as if he knows about _magic_ ,” Sirius said to Harry.

“He does,” Harry replied.

“How?” Sirius asked.

“He was in the bedroom Sunday,” Harry said, standing back up, his erection still jutting forward from beneath the dark pubic hair, “You know, when I showed up.”

“He was hiding from Andy,” Gia said, “Wouldn’t leave.”

“And you didn’t _solve_ it right?” Sirius asked.

“A Memory Charm?” Harry stammered, “I’m not harming Richard!”

“A Memory Charm does no lasting damage,” Sirius said.

“Gilderoy Lockhart had to pay a shit ton of money and he’s still not right in the noggin,” Harry said, “Harmless Memory Charm—my arse! Just because they can walk and talk doesn’t mean it was harmless, otherwise, a lobotomy is harmless!”

“What’s a lobotomy?” Sirius asked.

“Muggle procedure,” Harry said.

“Surgery to cut into the brain,” Gia said, her fingers curled around Harry’s hard cock, “Ruins their personality.”

“Madam Pomfrey’s set on destroying my sex life,” Harry said, “Three times today!”

“Oh,” Gia said.

“Play with it,” Harry said, “With honey if you want.”

“Muggles submit to this?” Sirius said, “Obviously they’ll tolerate Memory Charms.”

“It’s not like they give the choice to the patient!” Harry said, “It’ll be done for their _greater good_ or whatever bullshit. It’s still an injury. Richard’s very kind to us, I’m not touching him. I decided that trust was better medicine.”

“He’s already helped cover up,” Gia said.

“Some of the biggest breaches began this way,” Sirius said.

“What about the fucking Hospital?” Harry said, “Or Privet Drive? Death Eaters are the bigger threat to that.”

“That’s not been proven,” Sirius said.

“Or disproven,” Harry said.

“Understand the legal risk you’re accepting,” Sirius said, “If a breach is traced back to you, you’re in trouble, and don’t count on Albus Dumbledore getting you out of trouble.”

“He wouldn’t let me fry,” Harry said.

“He’s not invincible nor infallible,” Sirius said, “And why is Madam Pomfrey giving you so many exams?”

“Long story,” Harry said, “I’m tired of going over it, but hey, while you’re here—” He put his school bag onto the table, got out a roll of parchment and a quill “—I need to ask you some questions. Mind?”

Harry sat down, Sirius sat down on the other side.

“What’s going on?” Sirius asked.

“School essay that Professor Tonks wants on the Unforgivables,” Harry said, “I need to interview people, and, well, figured you might have a thing or two to say.”

“I’ll be surveying the honey,” Gia said, getting up.

“You do that,” Harry said.

Gia left, went into the kitchen.

“Honey?” Sirius asked.

“Free sex tip from school,” Harry said, “Thought we’d try it. Now, have you ever performed an Unforgivable?”

“Apart from training on spiders, no,” Sirius said, “I understand you’re having the same difficulties that any true Gryffindor would have, and your personal history with one.”

“Yeah, hence the essay,” Harry said, “They think I should be able to.”

“What do you plan to use if you’re confronting You–Know–Who, a patronus?” Sirius said, “There is a time and a place for them. They’re called Unforgivables because of the tendency to overuse them by particular types of individuals.”

Harry dipped his quill into the ink jar, wrote this down.

“What is the closest you’ve come to casting one?” Harry asked, “On whom? And why?”

“Right after your parents died,” Sirius said, “I was about to curse Peter Pettigrew, except he beat me to the punch, and you know the story.”

Gia, meanwhile, had returned to her bedroom, where a very dressed Ron was there, putting a couple of owl treats into Hedwig’s dish.

“Hi,” Gia said.

Ron closed the bedroom door.

“Harry’s—where?” Ron asked.

“Downstairs interviewing Sirius,” Gia said, “Sirius would let you interview him too.”

“I don’t have to do that essay,” Ron said, “No, I didn’t want him eavesdropping.”

“What’s up?” Gia asked.

“He’s undoubtedly complained about the examinations he’s been getting, yesterday and today,” Ron said.

“He’s been having to orgasm for it?” Gia said, “What’s wrong with him?”

“Rumors take on a life of their own,” Ron said.

“Him with Herpes?” Gia asked.

“And others,” Ron said, “Regulations are such that Madam Pomfrey is required to give him an examination, and of course, the fact that he gets examined just reinforces the rumors, and it repeats. Even Madam Pomfrey admits its a waste of her time and Harry’s patience, but she’s obligated to check, again, and again, and again.”

“Somebody suggested honey on his dick?” Gia asked.

“Yep,” Ron said, “However, honey could be a good idea, because for all the exams, Madam Pomfrey wants me and Hermione to start pestering him into eating more; he’s underweight, significantly.”

“Dr. Patrick mentioned it,” Gia said, “But how is honey on his dick going to help?”

“Not on him, but on _you_ ,” Ron said, “I mean, remember the hot dog? Turn yourself into a buffet when you two, you know, have sex. It’s either that or Madam Pomfrey has some potions she can give, but we know how Harry likes those. Up to it?”

“Of course,” Gia said.

Ron tapped his Portkey with his wand, vanished.

Gia, of course, could remember, that time back in the spring, when Harry was eager to eat the hot dog that she had stored inside her vagina; the nerves before learning of his verdict. Perhaps this was the time to test his statements about wanting more varieties to their sexual lives.

Gia went back down, to the kitchen, where she opened the refrigerator. An assortment was there, and she took a few moments to work out what to grab. She put some roast beef slices onto a plate, along with a pickle, onion slices, cheese slices, and a bit more. She grabbed the mustard bottle, the relish, and the mayonnaise. Piling it onto the plate, she grabbed a loaf of bread, went for the dining room.

“We were nearly finished,” Sirius said.

“Thank you,” Harry said, “I might ask a question or two later.”

“Any time,” Sirius said.

Sirius hunched over, transformed. Snuffles left the dining room.

“Fixing yourself a bite to eat?” Harry asked.

“You might say that,” Gia said as she sat on the table, right in front of him, her butt pushed his parchment out of the way, “Stand up.”

Harry stood up.

“Oh,” Gia said, her eyes on his soft penis, “Need that up.”

“Make it so,” Harry replied.

Gia reached over, retracted his foreskin, teased right beneath the slit, the glans, and it enlarged. She tickled his scrotum, and the erection grew faster.

“I told you, Madam Pomfrey already drained me today,” Harry said.

“It’s still useful,” Gia said, taking a thin slice of roast beef into her hands. She wrapped it tightly around the circumference of Harry’s hard cock.

“Ain’t a condom,” Harry said.

“Test the fit,” Gia said.

Harry blushed, brought his glans to her vulva, pushed it inward. He sought to calm himself, kissed her neck. A push and a pull, he brought it out; the slice of roast beef was well torn, ready to fall apart.

“Like I said, not a great condom,” Harry said, “It won’t even protect you if I squirt.”

Gia, however, took the shards of the slice, put them onto a slice of bread. She grinned.

“Oh!” Harry said.

“You said you wanted to try something new,” Gia said.

“Sure,” Harry replied.

Gia brought over a slice of cheese.

“That won’t hold up,” Harry said.

Gia did place it against her labia, pushed until her clitoris made an indentation into it, put the slice onto the bread.

“Here,” Harry said, handing her a pickle, “So, whatchya putting on it?”

Gia threaded the pickle into her folds, pushed inward until it was halfway in, halfway out.

“Turning you on?” Gia asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

Gia applied some mayonnaise, some mustard, to the bread, closed it off, and handed it to Harry.

“Try it,” Gia said.

Harry bit in.

“Flavorful,” Harry said.

Gia laid back onto the table, let her pussy be aimed at Harry’s face. Richard came in.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Richard said.

“It’s alright, stay, if you want,” Gia said.

“No, no,” Richard left.

“Mr. Pickle needs action too,” Gia said to Harry.

“I’m eating,” Harry said, working the sandwich down.

Gia felt a bit sleazy, using sex to trick him into eating, but at least it was working, it caught his interest. She grabbed the honey bottle.

“Why’d they suggest honey?” Gia asked.

“Supposed to cure a penis that burns as you piss,” Harry said, now working the pickle, pushing it inward and pulling, to mimic his cock.

“Ouch, feel sorry for you,” Gia said.

“I don’t have that problem,” Harry said, “But it’s a common symptom to everything I’m rumored to have, and you’re more than welcome to spread the honey.”

“Sure,” Gia said. She grabbed the bottle, poured it around the pickle, drenching her clitoris in the sticky yellow stuff.

“How are you going to clean that?” Harry asked.

“That’s _your_ job,” Gia said.

“Oh!” Harry said, “You’re being the devil.”

Harry leaned in, his tongue licked as he kept moving the pickle.

“Can I see your—?” Gia started.

Harry paused enough to climb onto the table. He straddled her head, letting his scrotum hanging above her, the hard cock aimed downward as he leaned back over. He brought his tongue back to her clitoris, resumed licking and moved the pickle. Her hands reached up, held the marshmallow like lumps hanging freely above her. She touched the fulcrum beneath his penis tip, a bit of clear liquid drained out.

“Like I said, spent,” Harry said, “It’ll be good so long as the rumors die out.”

Gia trembled for a moment as she felt it begin with his pushing and licking; her fingers felt into his sack, as her clarity changed, and for a few moments, all imperfections that she could see were gone, his balls were flawless and were for her.

“How long?” Gia asked.

“Somebody’s gotta have wet their trousers by now or done something of interest,” Harry said, “Rumors will be gone in no time.”

* * *

“Come on Potter!” Seamus said days later while pushing Harry into the Hospital Wing Friday afternoon, “Gotta make sure!”

“Oh, it’s you,” Madam Pomfrey said to Harry, “You’re fine.”

“No he’s not!” Seamus said, “Dean had extreme discomfort in Potions, I got it too, so I’m seeing to this myself.”

“I’ve already checked him a dozen times,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“We share a dormitory,” Seamus said, “Could be anything!”

“Step behind the curtain,” Madam Pomfrey said to Harry.

“No,” Harry said, “We’ll do this here, just so they’re satisfied that I’m clean!”

Harry pulled his shirt, showed the bare chest, before dropping his trousers.

“No underwear?” Seamus said, seeing Harry’s long todger hanging there.

Harry glanced at the people out in the corridor.

“Nope,” Harry said.

“This isn’t right,” Hermione said as she and Ron entered.

“Are you sure about this Mr. Potter?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

Ernie Macmillan, Neville Longbottom, entered, joined in with Dean Thomas. Parvati and Padma Patil ushered themselves in, though, they won’t be the last to join in.

“I am clean!” Harry said, “So, lets go over it again, and they watch as I have to give a stool sample!”

“If you’re interested in Healing, we can setup a class,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Harry, however, turned around, mooned his classmates as he bent over. They all watched as the glass bulb to the thermometer went into his anus.

“Seamus, hold the tray,” Harry said.

Seamus came forward, held the glass tray as Madam Pomfrey indicated, right below Harry. After she removed the thermometer, Harry’s bowels moved, depositing the light brown sludge into Seamus’ hands.

“Ew,” Seamus said.

“What’s his temperature Mr. Finnigan?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“Thirty seven point one,” Seamus said, reading the thermometer.

“Your patient just gave a stool sample, common courtesy means this,” Madam Pomfrey handed him a wet washcloth, “Clean it.”

Seamus grimaced as he wiped Harry’s anus.

“You’re now an asswipe,” Harry said as he turned around.

“Now you get to examine the sample,” Madam Pomfrey said, “What do you see?”

Harry grabbed a comb, worked at a couple of knots in his pubic hair, Ginny watched this while Colin Creevy pulled out his camera.

“It’s brown,” Seamus said.

“This is fat,” she said, pointing to the nodules, “However, you’re interested in—” she handed him the spectacle “—in your eye.”

Seamus put this into his eye, it held on.

“What the fuck?” Seamus said.

“What do you see moving?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

Seamus took a moment.

“I’m skipping dinner,” Seamus said, some chuckles came from the audience, “Can’t find it, what color am I looking for?”

“All colors,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Seamus shook his head.

“So, no parasites in there?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“I guess not,” Seamus said.

“Now, check his skin, thoroughly,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Seamus patted on Harry’s shoulders.

“Don’t forget my dick,” Harry said.

“Of course you’d like that,” Seamus said.

“You’re the one interested in my health!” Harry exclaimed.

“Look for anything unusual,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Ignore his scar, that’s old news.”

“Search his dick,” Ginny said.

Seamus frowned as he knelt, checking behind the knees first.

“Symptoms can be anywhere, of course,” Madam Pomfrey said, “However, soft tissues see it the most, especially around the privates.”

“Hold this,” Harry said, handing a jar to Seamus. Harry had done enough examinations that week to know the function of each jar.

“What’s this for?” Seamus asked.

“To the side, so they can see,” Harry said, “Need to take a leak.”

“What?” Seamus stammered.

Harry, though, had already retracted his foreskin, his glans visible to his school mates, as he relaxed, let the yellow pour out; the jar began to fill up. Seamus curled his nose.

“Ew,” Seamus said.

Harry caught the glimpse from Cho Chung.

“Do you see a rash?” Harry asked, his dick still peeing, “It feels fine! No honey required!”

Harry’s stream petered out.

“Now, look at it,” Madam Pomfrey said to Seamus.

“It’s piss,” Seamus said, “Warm _piss_!”

Madam Pomfrey took the sample.

“It ain’t over,” Harry said to Seamus as Seamus glanced at the door, “You get to handle my dick, get the third sample, no charms.”

“Really?” Seamus asked, “Should I ask what the third—?”

“You already know,” Harry said.

“I do collect it for some examinations, especially in light of the accusations,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“You’ve been accusing me,” Harry said to Seamus, “You collect it, be satisfied that it is indeed _mine_. I just ask you be gentile, treat it better than you treat your own.”

Harry felt the gamut of emotions as Seamus began the process of teasing Harry’s soft penis. It was an embarrassing, explicit, peep show, and he was at the center of it with Seamus now having to play with Harry’s soft dick. Seamus worked the testicles.

“Pick a girl, imagine her naked,” Seamus instructed.

Part of Harry wanted to be obstinate, make Seamus really work at the handjob that was about to be performed. However, he was also the one standing in front of his classmates, them watching him, nothing unturned, nothing hidden, his testicles on display to Colin’s camera.

“Turn him,” Colin said.

Seamus turned Harry more to the side; they all saw a bit more of the profile, as Harry’s dick stiffened before their eyes. All watched as Seamus’ hand proceeded to stroke, the foreskin slipped.

“Don’t forget to catch the sample,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Harry felt ridiculous, standing there, as the audience moved around, each one trying to get a better, closer, look at his hard erection being stimulated. Harry knew he’d rather have Gia do this, but didn’t have time to fetch her. However, the thought of Gia, her hands, the job he wish he’d get, was enough to trigger the response.

Colin’s camera was about a foot away, happily clicking, while all other eyes focused as Harry felt the pressure release. They all saw the white snot shoot out. Seamus’s reflexes were fast enough to catch it in the clear glass dish. They all watched the white pour out of his slit, dribbling down.

“What’s it looking like?” Harry asked.

“The normal stuff,” Seamus said.

“Exactly!” Harry said, “It’s normal, I’m normal! The only soreness I have is because this is the third time _today_ I’ve had to do this, and four times yesterday—in other words, overuse! Quash the damn rumors!”

“I don’t know how you’re fucking doing it, pulling these shenanigans off!” Seamus said, “I’m not falling for it.”

“Then FUCK YOU!” Harry exclaimed, putting both of his middle fingers up to Seamus, “If you don’t believe your eyes, then what will you fucking believe?”

Harry stuffed his clothes into his book bag, left the Hospital Wing despite being stark naked with a strand of semen still clinging from his softening penis.


	15. Hike

Harry landed Friday afternoon in Gia’s bedroom. He put the portkey and wand onto the backpack that was on his bed when he heard it.

KABOOM!

Despite still being naked from his examination earlier, Harry went out of the bedroom, where smoke was pouring out of Andy’s bedroom. Harry coughed, when Andy came out, on her hands and knees.

“What the fuck?!” Harry stammered.

“Where’s that dick?” Andy asked, ignored Harry’s as she went for the stairs, her shirt and shorts were singed.

Harry went down the stairs.

“DIE!” Andy shouted at Richard.

Richard was naked, from his smooth chest down to the feet, hazel eyes glaring at Andy; but backed into a corner of the living room.

“I hate you!” Richard barked.

“ANDREA! RICHARD!” Kristen shouted as she came down the spiral stairs, dressed in her Police uniform.

“How am I to make anything if she’s destroying it all!” Richard stammered.

“Where’s Gia?” Harry asked.

“Downstairs,” Richard said as Kurt came into the house.

“What did I miss?” Kurt asked, unfastening the top of his firefighter uniform.

“Upstairs, into your bedrooms,” Kristen said, “Your father and I will discuss sanctions, understood?”

Harry went down the steps, into the basement. Jen and Gia were over by the workbench, Harry went over. He slipped in front of Gia, leaned back into her bare breasts, letting them push against the sides of his neck. On the bench, the green boards were broken, bits busted off.

“I take it this is what started today’s fight?” Harry asked.

“Richard spent a year on this project,” Jen said, “Ant destroyed it in minutes.”

“I’m guessing the hike’s off then?” Harry said.

“Depends on their parents, now, doesn’t it?” Jen said “You’re both ready.”

While Jen’s sports bra was suggestive, she was wearing it and the short shorts. Both Harry and Gia were naked.

“Hey, come up!” Kristen shouted down the stairs.

Harry, Jen, and Gia, went back over, back up, into the living room. Richard was standing nearby, still starkers, his testicles hung as loose as Harry’s were. Kurt was leaning back against the wall near the cold fireplace; Andy was sitting on the stair.

“Richard, Andy, you are _both_ on restriction until further notice,” Kristen said.

“She destroyed—” Richard started.

“Who lit off the smoke bombs in Andrea’s bedroom?” Kristen said, “I’d like nothing better than you two to shake hands, make up, and be civilized to each other, but that’s not going to happen, is it?”

“Stop him from beating me up,” Andy said.

“Because the separation will give us some peace,” Kristen said, “Richard’s going on his little hike with his friends.”

Richard’s face lit up.

“You will be on restriction when you get back,” Kristen said, “Understood?”

“Yes,” Richard said.

“Good, get your things, Kurt will drive you,” Kristen said.

Harry and Gia, Jen, went for the stairs.

“Best to stay out of my bedroom until the exterminators have a chance,” Richard said.

Harry and Gia entered her bedroom.

“I thought Dudley was mean,” Harry said, grabbing the backpack.

“Sorry about that,” Richard said, entering the bedroom.

“Dressing light?” Gia asked. While she was naked, like she normally was, Richard usually wore his boxers.

“Ant got a lice colony,” Richard said, “All of my clothes, my sheets, even my mattress have to be burned.”

“And your sleeping bag?” Gia asked.

“Luckily downstairs,” Richard said, “I already packed before she…”

Harry filled Hedwig’s dish with food.

“Only a couple of days this time,” Harry said to the bird as he stroked her feathers, “See you later.”

Harry cracked the window open, Hedwig hooted before she left.

“Doesn’t Snuffles have a dish?” Richard asked.

“That’s a bloody good idea!” Harry said, “Bet he’d enjoy that.”

Gia held Richard’s shoulder by the side as him and her went back out, down the stairs.

“Don’t give Harry ideas, it’s a bit of a strain on Snuffles,” Gia said.

“Snuffles needs food,” Richard said.

“Snuffles feeds himself,” Gia said, “Probably going for the bangers or the steak if you leave that in the refrigerator.”

Snuffles growled a bit from the floor.

“He heard you,” Richard said, “How does Snuffles like his steaks?”

“Not sure, haven’t asked,” Gia said, “Whatever you do, don’t mention leashes to Harry.”

“Snuffles is so…funny,” Richard said.

Harry and Jen came down the stairs.

“Hey,” Harry said to Snuffles, “Small hike with Gia and them, I can manage. Keep Hedwig company.”

“Are you going to put anything on?” Kurt asked Richard.

“Just get him out of the house,” Kristen stated.

They left the house.

“That’s in?” Jen asked as Harry put in his small leather backpack into the boot of the car.

“He’s efficient,” Richard said as he put his large framed backpack in.

Harry got into the back seat of the blue sedan, into the middle, while Gia got into his left. Jen got in on the right, while Richard tried to shove even further; however, they were already packed in tight.

“One per belt,” Kurt said.

Richard grumbled a bit, moved around the car, entered.

Pop!

Gia handed Harry a cola soft drink, in the can. He sipped on it.

“You didn’t tell me this was going to be clothing optional,” Jen said to Richard as Kurt drove.

“They generally don’t bother, and I wasn’t planning on Ant,” Richard said.

“Will you stay warm?” Kurt asked..

“Yes,” Harry replied.

“Neither Kristen nor I approve of this,” Kurt said, “However, we value sanity in the house.”

“It’s about self–image, self–confidence,” Richard said, “Gia didn’t have any until Harry came along, they traveled naked, and it’s a world apart.”

“He’s lying,” Harry whispered to Gia.

“Shh!” Jen whispered, “He’s good at talking them up.”

“I want to know myself better,” Richard said, “You know, get in tune with nature. How better to do that than to be sky clad?”

Jen’s left hand, though, tried to avoid being squeezed between her and Harry, and roamed. She felt Harry’s penis, the fingers grasped his foreskin, and she tugged.

“What’s this?” Jen asked.

“It’s my todger,” Harry said.

“It’s not _like_ Richard’s,” Jen said, “Not at all.”

“Hey!” Richard said.

“I think she means this,” Gia said. Her right hand reached in, took over for Jen, retracted Harry’s foreskin. “Like this?”

“Yeah,” Jen said, “Hadn’t really seen Harry’s up close.”

Richard turned around in his seat, looked backward.

“That?” Richard said, “I’m circumcised—why is that Dad?”

“It looks like mine,” Kurt said.

“Lousy reason,” Richard said.

“You’re already on restriction,” Kurt said, “Don’t make it worse on yourself.”

Richard stayed turned, stared at Jen as Kurt continued. Gia gave Harry another four sodas, he drank. Gia opened a sixth one as Kurt came to a stop at the trailhead, to the preserve as the evening was starting. Richard got out, put on his large framed backpack.

“How many is he going to drink?” Jen asked, “And how many did you bring?”

“More than enough,” Gia said.

“He’s going to have to piss it out,” Jen said.

“Mind?” Harry asked.

Gia put on the backpack.

“I or your mother will be back Sunday at seven in the evening,” Kurt said to Richard, “After that, you’ll go home, sleep, and go to school on Monday, alright?”

“Yeah,” Richard said, “Whatever.”

“Call if you need to come back early,” Kurt said.

“Won’t happen,” Richard replied, “Later.”

Kurt got into the car, backed out. Harry put the empty can into the backpack, grabbed a water bottle.

“You’re just guzzling that down,” Jen said.

Harry knew what she meant, he already felt the urge, the pressure of a swollen bladder.

“Hydration,” Richard said.

“Watch,” Harry said.

Jen watched as Gia’s fingers teased Harry’s bollocks, his erection formed.

“Lets get moving before it gets too dark,” Richard said, “Jen?”

Richard approached Jen, his fingers undid the snaps to short shorts, and he moved to pull off her sports bra. Richard’s stiffening dick made no secret of his mind as Jen’s carpet came to view. He set the clothes aside, put them into a camper’s log book canister nearby.

“You don’t like those,” Jen stated.

“Not when the point is to be a naturalist,” Richard said, pulling her to a walk to the trail.

They walked, four across on the wide trail, into the trees.

“You’d think a summer of seeing his todger go all over would get old, nope,” Gia said.

“I did bring it Gia,” Richard said.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Give it,” Gia said.

Richard opened a side pocket, pulled out a pair of shrink wrapped blue pill.

“Swallow this,” Richard said to Harry, handing one to him, “Need that water.”

Richard tore the wrapper open, popped in the pill, and chased it down with the water.

“It’s safe,” Gia said.

Harry took the other one, opened it, and did the same.

“Is that the viagra?” Jen asked.

“What’s Via—sorry,” Harry said.

“Keeps you hard for hours,” Richard said, pointing to the hard erections.

Jen started to speed up, started to cross in front of Harry.

“Oh, don’t walk directly in front of me,” Harry said, the pressure becoming unbearable.

“Why?” Jen asked, taking a moment to understand with the water bottle back to Harry’s lips.

Jen got out in time as the jet started up, Harry began to piss as he walked. Sure, it might have been a bit awkward at one time, but Harry had already peed for his classmates, he’d rather do it here. Harry wasn’t certain if he felt a surge of magic or not, but his dick seemed happy to be pouring out, and he let it continue as they walked.

“So that’s what you were up to,” Jen said to Gia.

“Yep,” Gia replied.

They all kept an eye on Harry’s jet, continuing, shaking to the right and left as they hiked.

“How much?” Jen asked.

“Dunno, a lot,” Harry said.

Harry kept guzzling, he kept peeing, swearing to himself that his magic likely had something to do with it. It didn’t stop as they walked, the dusk coming upon them, even as Richard got out several flashlights; they climbed the hill to the top.

“Excuse us,” Richard said to Jen and Gia, “Harry.”

Richard took Harry fifty paces away.

“You’re still pissing,” Richard said, holding the light to show Harry’s hard cock still jetting out the clear trail..

Harry had simply stopped worrying about it, he’d let it go, because Gia liked seeing him pee.

“So?” Harry asked.

“I imagine magic is involved?” Richard said, “Jen’s commented about it several times, she’ll catch on if you’re not careful.”

“It doesn’t always work the way you think,” Harry said, “Sometimes it just happens, part of me that I don’t control.”

“Subconsciously?” Richard asked.

“What’s that?” Harry asked.

“Lemme put it this way,” Richard said, “You’ve left piss all the way from the trailhead to here, even Ant’s dog Cody could track you from it.”

Harry closed his eyes, concentrated, as his wand was in the backpack. _Finite Incantatem!_ His penis began to calm down, the stream stopped.

“If you wanna use that magic on Ant, go ahead,” Richard said.

They returned to Gia and Jen. Both already had the sleeping bags out, rolled onto the grass. There were three sleeping bags, the double wide plus two singles.

* * *

Meanwhile, a light drizzle showered upon the Astronomy Tower. Hermione held in tight onto Ron, her head into his chest, the front of his shirt was up, held behind his head.

“You wanted to be up here because of the rain,” Hermione said, “So I’d be inclined to—”

“Yep,” Ron said, while holding her tightly around the waist, her hand underneath his trousers, his pants, holding onto his hard erection beneath the cloth, “Nice thought.”

“There are other places,” Hermione said.

“Lets go to the common room and lay starkers in front of the fireplace,” Ron said.

“That’d be a splendid idea,” Hermione said, “Provided it weren’t so full of others.”

“Pull a Harry, go naked, all the way,” Ron said.

“That was rotten, what they made him have to do,” Hermione said, “And they still didn’t believe it!”

“I’m not sure who was torturing who,” Ron said, “I think Harry gained the extra hand.”

“Bad pun Ron,” she said, toying with Ron’s zipper.

“Now what would two Gryffindors be doing up here at this hour?” came the greasy voice.

Ron pulled his shirt back as Professor Snape came forward.

“Watching the stars,” Hermione said.

“They tend to come out at night,” Ron said.

“Really?” Professor Snape said, glancing up at the clouded sky, “Fascinating.”

“We’ll just be going,” Ron said.

“Five points from Gryffindor, each,” Professor Snape said.

Ron and Hermione went down the steps, descended back into the castle, and returned to Gryffindor Tower. Ron climbed the stairs into the sixth year boys’ dormitory.

“There you are,” Seamus said, “Where’s Harry?”

“What’s it to you?” Ron asked.

“He’s not in his bed,” Seamus said, standing there.

“You’re not his mother, bug off,” Ron said, grabbing the largest wool blanket from his four poster, and one from Harry’s.

“I’ve got a right to know!” Seamus said.

“No you do not,” Ron said, going for the door.

“Got a healer coming in from St. Mungo’s, get another opinion,” Seamus said.

“You can get your wiener checked out all you want,” Ron said, “Harry’s business is his own, and mine is my own.”

Ron left the dormitory.

“This ain’t over Weasley!” Seamus shouted.

Ron came back to the common room. Hermione was already sitting in front of the warm fireplace, back against the sofa, near the far end. Ron ignored Neville on the near end, instead, sat down next to her, wrapped one blanket over her; he wrapped the other one over himself, he unbuckled his belt.

“That shouting?” Hermione asked.

“Seamus again,” Ron said, pulling closer to Hermione. He adjusted the blankets so they were leaning against each other, the cloth protected them both. He pushed his trousers down, sat there in his boxers beneath the wool, his face focused on hers

“Same thing?” Hermione said, “Should tell Harry.”

“Not bugging him,” Ron said, “Best to let Seamus come up empty handed.”

“When he searches the castle?” Hermione asked.

“It’s a big castle, lots of places to get lost, you know that,” Ron said, “Though this corner has a fire, and you.”

Ron leaned in, kissed her.

“Know what’s on your mind,” Hermione said.

“Interested?” Ron asked, before he pulled his shirt off, laid it to the side.

“Mind?” Neville asked, his eyes glanced at the shirtless Ron who kept the blanket only to the waist; though Hermione’s was covered higher.

Ron waved at Neville, the red armpit hair showing.

“Go watch out for trouble,” Ron said, “Thanks.”

Neville, though, remained there.

“We’re not alone,” Hermione said.

“So?” Ron said, softly, “It’s not like we’ve kept this a secret.”

Ron pulled her closer, her hand was against his chest. Ron wrapped his arm around her back, reached beneath her shirt, slipped down, and held onto her left hip. She shifted her weight, letting Ron slip her trousers, her knickers, off her beneath the blanket on the stone floor, the garments joined his boxers across the floor. Ron propped up the knees of his parted legs, pulled the blanket up enough to expose his genitals toward the fire. Heat seeped in, loosened his testicles as Ron was now naked beneath the blanket.

“It’s not like I don’t know what you’re doing,” Neville said to Ron.

“Then don’t use your imagination,” Ron said, “Shoo, shoo! Go to bed! Clear the room for us!”

“Fine,” Neville said, getting up.

Neville was the last of them, the common room was now clear of everybody except for Ron and Hermione.

“This isn’t a bed,” Hermione said.

“So?” Ron said, “Got no place better to be than here.”

Ron reached beneath her blanket, unbuttoned her shirt, pulled it off of her.

“One guess,” Hermione said. She reached, felt the warm hard cock hanging in the clear, aimed toward the fire, “Yep.”

“We spent an entire summer,” Ron said, “Bit silly to try to hide it now.”

“This is Hogwarts,” Hermione said.

“So?” Ron said, undoing the back snaps of her brasserie, “They know we’re a thing, no point in trying to deny it, not right.”

Ron pulled the bra out, tossed it to join their other clothes.

“You like being reckless,” Hermione said.

“Of course, of course,” Ron said, removing the wool blanket altogether.

Hermione fingered his pubic hair, kept coming brushing against the stiffness. Ron moved, setting her down, using the blanket as a cushion, but otherwise left her fully visible on the stone floor, the fire warming them both. Ron got onto his knees, let her watch the red sheath of magic shimmer across his cock before he got onto his hands and knees.

“You’ve got no shame, do you?” Hermione asked.

“Don’t think so,” Ron said, straddling her, fingering her folds in her carpet, his tip rested on them. He pushed inward.

“Um…” Hermione said, glancing past Ron.

Ron, however, did not pay heed, not noticing the figure that had come down the stairs, but instead, began to thrust, flexing his hips, letting his cock work inside Hermione. He pushed, pulled, pressed sideways and upward, as he did this, heard Hermione’s heaving breathing that let him relax. A moment later, he pulled out, the semen collecting in the magical condom.

“To witness my brother having _sex_!” Ginny exclaimed.

“What?” Ron asked, turning around; the condom vanished and the seed dripped from his tip.

“Where’s Harry?” Ginny asked.

“He’s not interested!” Ron said.

“Colin’s asking,” Ginny said.

“He’s not interested in Colin either,” Ron said.

“She didn’t mean that!” Colin said, coming in, “We’re just trying to find him.”

“He’s not answering to you!” Ron said, “Harry’s got no obligations to show his face until Monday’s Quidditch tryouts!”

“His classes?” Hermione asked.

“Those too, but those are on Monday,” Ron said, “You’re not seeing him before then!”

“Of course he’s grumpy,” Colin said to Ginny, “You just interrupted them—”

“Banging in the Common Room!” Ginny exclaimed.

“Get to BED!” Ron shouted.

Hermione wrapped herself in a blanket, went up the stairs. Ron chased her, into the girls dormitory.

“Go away!” Hermione shouted at Ron.

“What?” Ron asked, Parvati studying them.

“Use your own bed,” Hermione said, “Good night!”

Hermione climbed onto her bed, hid beneath the covers.

“Fine,” Ron said, leaving.

* * *

Gia woke just after the sun had just crested the trees below them, starting its rise the next morning; Harry was on his side. She didn’t have to feel, but she did, as her nose was already telling her what her hand was felt as her hand went to the other side of him. Harry trembled, curled into a fetal position on his right, his penis was dribbling onto the grass below him. She curled back up behind him, her left hand massaged into his scrotum, the right massaged his right earlobe, and Harry’s teeth stopped chattering.

“He’s a bloody wreck,” Richard said.

“It’s Harry,” Gia said, glancing upward.

Richard’s soft circumcised penis hung out, beneath his chest; his concerned hazel eyes bearing down on her.

“You packed a breakfast?” Richard asked.

“Think so,” Gia said.

“You’re up tomorrow morning then,” Richard said before walking to his backpack; he squatted.

Gia glanced at the balls dangling beneath the butt.

“Those are mine, by the way,” Jen said, seeing Gia’s stare, came over to her.

“Wasn’t going there,” Gia said, “Though they do look good.”

“I know,” Jen said, “You’re gonna have to dry out your sleeping bag, your boyfriend’s clearly a bed wetter.”

Harry was still chattering a bit, the soft penis dribbling.

“Nobody’s perfect,” Gia said, “Harry’s prone to night terrors, but he makes up for it in many ways, very loyal.”

“He was eyeing me a lot last night,” Jen said.

“Harry’s holistic and I trust him,” Gia said, “So long as he shows me his stiffy after he gets it, I’m fine with it. Once he starts hiding it from me, then I’ll worry.”

“Have you found the loo?” Jen asked.

“I’m waiting until Harry wakes,” Gia said, “We like sharing in that.”

“That’s why you—last night,” Jen said, “He’s well practiced.”

Gia’s hand kept pushing into Harry’s scrotum, felt the testicles, as his penis began to stiffen, his eyes fluttered open.

“Morning,” Harry said.

“If he were a cat, he’d be purring,” Jen said.

“PURR!” Harry said.

Gia laughed.

“If I were a cat, I’d have a tail,” Harry said, “Wonder what that’s like, perhaps I should ask Snuffles.”

“We were discussing how ferocious you can be,” Gia said, “Yet, how docile you want to be to let us play.” She massaged back into his scrotum, held his hard cock. “Your most important possession, yet you want me to play with it.”

“First thing in the morning,” Harry replied.

“Where’s the loo?” Jen asked Richard.

“Um…here,” Richard said, going for his backpack. He handed her a roll of toilet paper and a small trowel.

“This again?” Jen asked.

“Yep,” Richard said.

“Think I need to play matchmaker,” Gia said to Harry.

Gia got up, followed Jen to behind a bush. Jen got onto her knees, dug a small hole.

“You’d think Richard’d have done this last night,” Jen said.

“He’s a _guy_ ,” Gia said, “You just had to wait until he had to take a dump.”

“My arse is about to explode,” Jen said.

“Could let him play with it, and apologize when it does,” Gia said.

“Eww…no,” Jen said, shaking her head, “You might like that—”

“Watching Harry take a dump isn’t at the top of my entertainment choices either,” Gia said, “That he’s comfortable letting me see it, that he’s okay with me doing it, that’s where it’s important.”

“You’ve got a boyfriend who wets the bed,” Jen said, crouching, holding her butt over the small pit.

“He trusts me, he loves me, so I’m okay with it,” Gia said, “Sure, not always pleasant, but it’s also fun.”

“That’s why he pisses for you at every opportunity?” Jen asked.

Pfffpt!

Jen’s anus began to drop out her droppings.

“It’s disgusting, yes, and I had hangups with it,” Gia said, “I’ve come to embrace it, his peeing penis is, indeed, gorgeous. Surely, you’ve seen Richard do it.”

“I don’t go out of my way to watch it,” Jen said.

“Have you and him had sex?” Gia asked, she had become curious.

“No,” Jen said, now urinating, “We’re naked, of course.”

“Want to?” Gia asked.

“Think so,” Jen said.

“Try it,” Gia said, “It’ll resolve any doubts, and, if you need it, I did pack a couple of spare condoms for Harry, in case he forgot.”

“You planned for that,” Jen said.

“It’s what his dick is for,” Gia said, “Richard is handsome too.”

“You’re watching him,” Jen insinuated as she wiped with the toilet paper.

“He is,” Gia said, “So is Harry, so is Ron.”

“Don’t really know him,” Jen said.

“Both are loyal, proud, honorable,” Gia said, “Taught me and Hermione that it’s okay to acknowledge it, because, truthfully, lots of us are handsome or beautiful. What’s important is to find a person for you, to cherish them, but it’s equally important to continue to see the beauty in those around you, because that’s the key to loving them too.”

* * *

Meanwhile, Ron woke in his dormitory, on his four poster. He went over, stood in front of one of the windows, looked out, not caring that his red pubic hair reflected on the window pane. He glanced over to the Forbidden Forrest, realized that Hermione was becoming stressed, which is why she acted the way she did the previous evening, and the idea came to him fast. Quickly, he put on a shirt and trousers, and ran out of the dormitory.

Ron nearly ran for the girl’s stairs, but stopped as Hermione was sitting at a table, reading.

“What crazy idea do you have now?” Hermione snapped.

“A good one,” Ron said, “Bring a book or two if you want.”

“Oh,” Hermione said, “Action in the library now?”

“We’ll do that tomorrow,” Ron promised as he extended a hand, had his smug grin on his face, “Come on.”

Hermione slung the bookbag onto her shoulder, stashed the book that she was reading into it, and got up. They left Gryffindor Tower.

“All they can talk about is us shagging in the Common Room last night,” Hermione said.

“Good,” Ron said, “At least it cuts Harry some slack.”

“We’ll get detention,” Hermione said.

“You are _worth_ the detention,” Ron said, “I’ll serve it—but I’d rather it be next week instead, you know, whenever you’re busy with homework.”

“You get homework too,” Hermione said.

“I’m not as good at it so I don’t waste my time,” Ron said, before he caught her glare, “Your time, you actually learn, so it’s worth it for you and me.”

She glanced at Ron’s bare feet on the stone.

“See you’re not taking to footwear,” Hermione said.

“We walked across Europe barefoot,” Ron said, “Bit of stone, not a problem.”

Ron tickled the pear on the portrait, on the floor below the Great Hall, entered the kitchen.

“Dobby!” Ron said.

“Dobby is pleased to help!” said the House Elf that appeared before them.

“We’re going outside for a little picnic, for the day,” Ron said, “We’d need—”

Dobby snapped his fingers, handed over a basket.

“Dobby worried it could be a cold day,” Dobby said.

“We’re not that thick,” Ron said, “Thank you.”

Ron carried the basket out of the Kitchen; Hermione followed.

“A picnic?” Hermione asked.

Ron climbed the steps up, went through the door, and walked out of the castle.

“Figured it to be a good idea,” Ron said.

“Not bad,” Hermione said, “Though we’re heading for the Forbidden Forest! Does the word _Forbidden_ register in your brain?”

“No witnesses then,” Ron said, “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, you don’t care for people witnessing us together, unless it’s Harry, so, the Forbidden Forest it is!”

They entered the forest, Ron’s bare feet sunk into the soil as they worked their way to the pond a short ways in, the pond that Hermione had admitted to being her favorite in the previous term. Mist floated in the air under the cold overcast sky above.

“We always come here,” Hermione said.

“Not too late to go for the Shrieking Shack,” Ron said.

“Years ago, I’d have turned you in,” Hermione said, “Funny how things change.”

They sat against a log on the bank, faced the water.

“Suppose Harry’s doing his thing,” Hermione said.

“With those damn rumors about him?” Ron said, “He deserves the break. Fortunately, things can’t get really any worse.”

Ron pulled his shirt.

“That’s all you can think about?” Hermione asked.

“Wanna do this in the common room, again?” Ron asked as he pushed his trousers down.

“It’s always on your mind,” Hermione said.

“Did you learn nothing this summer?” Ron said, “I’d rather be naked with you than anywhere else without you. Sex is optional, but highly desirable.”

“It’s cold,” Hermione said.

Ron reached into his trousers, laying nearby, pulled out his wand, aimed, started a fire between them and the water.

“There,” Ron said, “A fire, me to snuggle into, is there a better way to read a book?”

Hermione smiled, took her shirt off. Ron helped her with the brassiere, the panties. She pulled her cloak over her, leaned in, and took out Advanced Rune Translation , placed it between Ron’s legs. She fiddled with his dick a bit, his red pubic hair, and his bollocks as she read.

“Much better,” Hermione said.

Ron played with her bushy brown hair and let her study his stiffening penis, the heat of the fire kept them warm. Hermione took out a pen, put a couple of runes onto the pink glans of the dick for a few moments before she licked her finger to rub them off.

* * *

Both lumps hung loose on Harry, between his spread legs, the noon sun kept them warm, with his soft todger currently laying to the side. Gia glanced at these, with Harry on his back on the grassy hill, before returning back to Jen; both sitting nearby. Richard was also laying, though his legs were together, exhibited some nervousness.

“Need some help?” Gia asked.

“No,” Jen said.

Gia, though, stood, walked over to Richard, near his head, and her eyes looked down at him.

“So, I understand you need a coach,” Gia said, “You know, how to use your dick.”

“I don’t need that,” Richard said.

“Just watch,” Gia said, stepping next to Harry.

She sat on his lap, played with his softness until it stiffened; she saw the brief shimmer of green, and she sat on the hard cock, threading it into her. Gia motioned, Richard stood, came over, watched, along with Jen next to him; both at Gia flexing, and Harry’s sliding hard cock with his bollocks bouncing. Gia relaxed, felt the tremble in Harry, and stood. It was clear Harry’s seed was collecting.

“Nice condom,” Jen said.

“Your point?” Richard asked.

“You’ve been super nice to me,” Gia said, “I’m repaying it, telling you that there are times to act not like a gentlemen, but instead, be a raving lunatic.”

Kaboom!

Harry jumped, stood, they surveyed around. At the bottom of the hill, on the trail, were a group a young boys, laughing, facing the shallow ravine below them. One lit a firecracker in their hand, tossed the M80 into the ravine.

Kaboom!

“Small lake that way, good for swimming,” Richard said, pointing behind him, “Likely a better idea?”

They gathered their sleeping bags, things, repacked their backpacks, and made their way down the hill, and got onto the trail. The other boys, shorter, about to hit puberty themselves, ran past, giving some catcalls before they lit another M80 and tossed it.

Kaboom!

Those boys ran out of sight; Richard took another trail, heading off to the left.

“They saw us!” Jen grumbled.

“Yeah,” Richard said, starting to blush as his erection returned, “Another pass and they’d see—”

“That’s the point, at least one of them,” Harry said, walking next to Richard, “Advertising that you _are_ attracted to her and love her enough that you’re willing to be caught. Trust me, it’s only a big deal when you make it a big deal. The stiffy’s expected, and be a big disappointment if it didn’t happen.”

They followed the trail, it wound its way around, heading downward, underneath the cliffside, with a sharp drop–off below them.

“So, Harry, anything interesting happening for you at school?” Jen asked, “What’s it called?”

“St. Mary’s,” Gia said, she had learned the cover name ages ago.

“Nothing too much, just the usual,” Harry replied.

Gia knew Harry was lying, covering up, as she had to been careful not to remove his broom from the backpack.

“He’s not eager to advertise,” Richard said, “As I understand it, it’s a boarding school, he had to get special permission to sleep off campus.”

“How did you persuade that?” Jen asked Harry as they passed over some loose gravel.

“They had their reasons,” Harry said.

Jen slipped on the loose gravel, began to slide. Harry moved fast, gripped behind her armpits, and caught her. She stumbled for a moment, butt headed down, until her feet regained her footing. Harry lifted and Jen stood back up.

“Ta,” Jen said.

Kaboom!

Harry’s eyes turned enough, upward, as the rocks began to tumble as another M80 hit the slope.

Kaboom!

Harry’s hands pushed on Jen, shoved her forward fast. He turned enough to glimpse at Gia. A rock hit Harry on the head; he went limp as he tripped, started to tumble sideways as more rocks hit to push him.

“Shit!” came the exclaim from above, of the boys running away from the scene.

Gia and Richard, meanwhile, watched as Harry rolled down, bouncing like a rag doll, over the rocky embankment, until he landed on his back at the bottom. A boulder moved, pinned his right leg; however, Harry laid there, motionless.

“HARRY!” Gia yelled, “HARRY!”


	16. Hospital Wing

Rocks were still tumbling, sliding, though Gia could only watch as Richard held her back, which kept her out of the path of damage. As soon as the rocks stopped, Richard moved first, slid down, ignoring the new scrapes on his butt. Gia and Jen made it down to Harry ten seconds later. Harry was still breathing; Gia felt soreness in her own leg, but as if responding to her desires, Harry opened his eyes, the bottle green eyes studying the three faces above him.

“Nice of you to drop in,” Harry said, laying there as the big boulder kept his right leg pinned; his left arm bleeding.

“This is bad,” Richard said, “I need bandages, and something to pry.”

“Jen?” Gia said, reaching into the backpack on her back, “Find something to pry.”

Jen left to search. Gia handed Harry his wand.

“This isn’t the right time—” Richard started.

Harry, however, aimed, the boulder levitated, moved several feet over, and went back down.

“Alright!” Richard said. He knelt and looked at the bone protruding from the skin. “This is really bad, we’ll need a sleeping bag—”

Harry shook his head, “Here!” Gia took the backpack off her back, handed it to Harry. Harry laid the wand down as he rummaged into the side pocket, pulled out the Hogwarts pin, rested it on his stomach.

“What are you planning?” Richard said.

“I can be to Hogwarts, to our Healer, before you could get a stretcher together,” Harry said, “See you back at Noigate, we’ll return there.”

Gia held onto the pin as Harry tapped his wand. A jerk to the naval, and they landed on Harry’s four poster.

“You fit Ron’s clothes,” Harry said, “Get dressed—don’t be fussy to the wardrobe.”

Gia got out.

“This one, right?” Gia asked, seeing the trunk with the Chudley Canons stickers on it.

“Yep,” Harry said, “I’ll…” He fainted, blood still oozing out of his wounds.

“HELP!” Gia shouted.

Gia barely had time to cinch on Ron’s bathrobe when Colin Creevy entered the room.

“What the—?” Colin asked.

“Harry needs a doctor,” Gia said.

“Yeah,” Colin said. Colin put Harry into a fireman carry, over his shoulder, carried Harry. They walked fast, down the steps, through the corridors, to the Hospital Wing.

“Mr. Creevy—my goodness,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Colin put Harry down onto the bed.

“Thank you,” Gia said to Colin, stood next to Harry, and she looked at Madam Pomfrey. “He’ll survive?”

“Too early to jinx it,” Madam Pomfrey said, her wand first worked the arm, “Most likely.”

“Miss. Prescott,” said Professor Dumbledore as he slowly entered the Hospital Wing, “I would like to speak with you.”

Professor Dumbledore came over, stood, shaking on the cane. Gia looked at the old man, with the long beard. With a little twinkling in the eyes, Gia followed him into Madam Pomfrey’s office.

“Mr. Potter’s arrangement … is … confidential,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“We went for a hike, with my two friends,” Gia started. She described the hike, felt as if Professor Dumbledore was already working out the white lies, the gaps, she added to sanitize the tale for him.

“Thank you,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Harry chooses his friends well, as do you.”

Gia went back out, to where Madam Pomfrey was still tending to Harry.

“I’m keeping him asleep for several hours,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Better for Mr. Potter. Yell if there’s a problem.”

Madam Pomfrey returned to her office.

Gia sat on the edge of the bed, held Harry’s hand as he laid motionless underneath the blanket. She saw him idle, reasoned he wasn’t dreaming, the night terrors were not haunting him. She wondered how far she could go with him here.

“ALBUS!” Madam Pomfrey said, very loudly as her voice carried out of her office, “You’re as obstinate as Mr. Potter!”

“My needs are unimportant,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“It can be TREATED,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“At what cost?” Professor Dumbledore said, “We cannot afford the time!”

“That’s exactly the POINT!” Madam Pomfrey said, “We’d get more of it.”

“The decision is final, in every sense of the word,” Professor Dumbledore said, “If you excuse me, I want to check up on Mr. Potter again.”

Professor Dumbledore came back out, leaned heavily on a cane as he sat down on the adjacent bed.

“He will be alright, won’t he?” Gia asked.

“Mr. Potter is no stranger to these walls,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Yes, I believe so. I do worry about secrecy, though.”

“You mean magic?” Gia said, “Richard knows, though I’d imagine he’s having a rough time explaining to Jen—his girlfriend.”

“Fortunately Mr. Potter was able to summon the strength to get to Hogwarts,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Otherwise…the outcome could have been disastrous.”

“You’d have magic,” Gia said.

“Alas, magic cannot cure everything,” Professor Dumbledore said, “No, once a person has died, they are dead, no amount of magic can bring them back.”

“Oh,” Gia said, still holding Harry’s hand.

“Harry absolutely loves you, … there’s no bottom to that well,” Professor Dumbledore said, “That much is clear from your … teenage spirit.”

It took a moment for Gia to understand and to cinch the bathrobe.

“That is Mr. Weasley’s,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Some things do not change, … the brashness and boldness of youth is one of them. … This is a institution of learning, … oneself is the most important topic. … Hogwarts is no stranger … mandatory swimming lessons when I attended … before swimming suits were a thing. … I did not like them, … bit relieved that they were not a thing when I became Headmaster.”

“You canceled it,” Gia stated.

“No,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Before I taught … one boy drowned. … Boys in skin swimming in the lake … horseplay in Winter, inevitable.”

“Swimming pool?” Gia asked.

“Vetoed by governors who see the lake,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Keep Mr. Potter well.”

Professor Dumbledore shook, shifted his weight onto his cane, stood back up.

“Thank you,” Gia said.

“A pleasure,” Professor Dumbledore said, the slow tap of his cane went with him as he left the Hospital Wing.

Gia sat there, used her other hand to caress Harry’s ears, watched him breathe as he was in this induced sleep.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Ron stepped out of the water of the pond in front of Hermione. His bangs dripped water, his fingers dripped water, his chest was damp beneath the light rain of the well clouded sky, however, her eyes were on the wet dick, and the shrunken scrotum hiding his bollocks from sight.

“You’re going to freeze those off!” Hermione said.

“You’ve seen it before,” Ron said, “I know, I’ll assign you an essay on it!”

“Ron!” Hermione snapped.

Ron turned around, bent over, and backed up until his butt was over the low fire, his arse aimed toward Hermione, and he was looking between his legs at her.

“Observation point,” Ron said, grin on his face, “Watch em warm up!” He shook his butt, the testicles, the penis, though cold, swung. “How low will they go? Find out!”

“You’re just being ridiculous,” Hermione said.

“You’re smiling,” Ron retorted as he moved backward toward her, his bollocks came to rest against her forehead, “That’ll warm them up.”

“Trying to tell me something?” Hermione asked.

“How do they look?” Ron said, “You know, make sure they’re healthy.”

Hermione snorted.

Ron moved, sat next to her, pulled the heated blanket from the picnic basket over them. He ate at the chicken.

“You take a break from eating to show me your todger,” Hermione said, “You’re definitely silly.”

“Is it working?” Ron said, “You tell me.”

“You’d be missing a couple of body parts if it wasn’t,” Hermione replied.

“I know you like being smart and all,” Ron said, head turned to watch her face, “But we simple folk, you gotta tell me so I know, alright?”

“You know me,” Hermione said.

“I know,” Ron said, “Still, it does a lot of good hearing it from your mouth. The good, the bad, and the ugly.”

Hermione snorted.

“My butt’s ugly?” Ron asked, his right hand dropped to play with her tail bone.

“I didn’t say that,” Hermione said.

“Mind you, it’s not my best feature,” Ron said, “You’ve seen my dick, right?”

“I think so,” Hermione said, giving him an evil, mocking, glare.

“I look at yours and what comes to me most is who it’s attached to, you,” Ron said, “So, yeah, I’ll watch your butt.” He ran the hand across the tops of her buttocks, down to where they met the mossy ground beneath them.

Hermione snorted.

“Besides, who’s the fucking idiot that sees the khazi and thinks that’s the best spot for a pleasure palace?” Ron asked, his hand tickled into the top of her butt crack.

Hermione laughed.

“I didn’t get the choice,” Ron said, “But, I still love you, from the girl more afraid of expulsion than death, to the hot friend willing to hang out naked with me. I like that.”

“Let’s see about that,” Hermione said, her hand reaching beneath the cloak. She felt his pubic hair, moved down to the soft todger with the testicles between his legs. She plied into the scrotum as his dick stiffened against her wrist.

“So, you found a toy to play with,” Ron said, “It’s fun to play with toys.”

Ron reached behind her back, wrapped his right arm underneath her armpit, felt her right breast, massaged into it. She snorted.

“Going to make me guess, again?” Ron asked.

She nodded. Ron moved, knelt in front of her, his knees to either side of her hips.

“Suppose you’re wanting this,” Ron tapped his erection against her stomach.

She shook her head.

“You’ve got toys too,” Ron said, “Lemme play with ‘em.”

Ron held her breasts, she glared.

“Look, we both know these aren’t the biggest,” Ron said, “Kinda small, but that’s not important. They’re yours, it’s what I see, it’s what Harry sees, and because you’re nice, you’re friendly, you’re pretty, these turn me on, that’s what counts, right? I mean, sure, take my todger—” he held his hard cock “—Harry’s is longer, got more skin, but this is the one you’re playing with, that’s also important.”

“Interesting what a stare will get,” Hermione said.

“I thought it’d matter, to girls, because of what us boys will do,” Ron said, “I mean, Gia’s are honkers, but still—”

“Quit before you get too far behind, Ronald,” Hermione said.

“Big’s got it’s drawbacks,” Ron said, “Mum always complained about her back, and you saw hers.”

“Quit,” Hermione warned.

“Alright, alright,” Ron said, “My stiffy loves you too.”

Hermione snorted.

“Makes my examination go quicker,” Ron said, stately, rubbing her tits with both hands, “You know, just to be sure they’re still okay, nothing wrong.”

“Right,” Hermione said, she rolled her eyes.

“Good way to spend the day,” Ron said, “Okay, maybe some Quidditch would make it better.”

Ron lightly pushed, lowered her to the ground. He cock shimmered as it touched her carpet. He massaged.

“You’re trying to break the rules?” Hermione said, “It’s starting to get late.” Clouds were still with them, and starting to get a bit dimmer as the evening was starting to get a grip.

“Good thing you’re not Prefect,” Ron said, pushing his hard cock inward.

“How dare you think I’m not qualified!” she snapped, pulling back, forcing his dick back out of her.

“You’re qualified and capable,” Ron said, grin on his face, “That’s the problem, as Prefect, you’d have to report me.”

“Trying to be a bastard?” Hermione asked.

“Yep,” Ron said.

Ron pushed his hard cock inward, between the lacy flaps of skin lining her vagina, letting it immerse itself inside. He pulled, letting the plunger action of his glans drag along before pushing again.

“Hello?” came the voice, footsteps approached.

Ron pulled back, tumbled, recovered himself to sit on his butt, hands to the ground, his excited cock reaching upward between his parted legs.

“Who—?” Ron asked

“Funny spot to sleep,” Neville said, barefoot, in just a T–shirt and white briefs, “Your room?”

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. Ron stood, ignoring his still hard erection, approached Neville.

“Are you alright Neville?” Ron asked.

Neville kept his gaze, off into the distance, his eyes glazed over, but groaned as he rubbed his head with his hand.

“NEVILLE!” Ron shouted.

“Oi,” Neville said, “Funny what you’ve done to your bed, have you redecorated?”

Hermione was already dressed, a bit disorganized from her panic.

“Neville, where are you?” Hermione asked.

Ron took advantage, dressed himself.

“Dunno,” Neville said, rubbing his own shoulder, seemingly unconcerned that he was pissing in his briefs, the wet spot grew as the liquid dripped and poured from the entire bulge.

“What’s your name?” Ron asked.

“Ne…Nev…Longbutt,” Neville said.

Ron ran his hand through Neville’s dark hair, came to a small patch hastily cut short in the back.

“Missing hair,” Ron said, “Come on, we’re heading to the Hospital Wing.”

Ron ran his arm around Neville, they walked along. Hermione grabbed the picnic basket, her bookbag, and followed.

“Weird spot, already have breakfast?” Neville said, “You got a headache too?”

“We’ve got you,” Ron said, “Not too much further.”

“Breakfast date!” Neville exclaimed, “Ready for Charms? Fifteen minutes—”

“It’s Saturday,” Ron said as they left the Forbidden Forest, “No class today.”

“No, it’s Friday,” Neville corrected.

“Don’t worry, just a bit further to get the answers,” Ron said.

They went through the doors, entered, and went up to the first floor, into the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey came over.

“Please,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Ron put Neville onto the bed.

“Found him outside,” Ron said, “Seemed very disorientated and confused.”

“Five points to Gryffindor,” Madam Pomfrey said, drawing the curtain around the bed, “I’ll handle this from here.”

Ron left that bed.

“Ron! Hermione!”

Gia, waved at them while still wearing Ron’s bathrobe; next to her was the heavily bandaged Harry laying on it. Ron towered over the bed, looked down at Harry, mostly covered with the blanket; though his right leg was out, wrapped tightly.

“For somebody who despises Hospitals,” Ron said, “You’re a frequent visitor.”

Green eyes glared at Ron’s blue.

“What happened?” Hermione asked.

“Slight disagreement with some rocks,” Harry said, looking at Hermione, “I’ll be alright.”

“Trivial,” Gia said, clearly trying to help keep Harry’s sense of pride, “Tiny broken leg, fractured vertebrae, some lacerations, and several other trivial things.”

“Did you two have a nice day?” Harry asked, his eyes on the picnic basket that Hermione was still carrying, “Any action?”

Hermione glared.

“Neville crashed it,” Ron said.

“I wasn’t expecting him to join you,” Harry said.

“Not that you twat!” Ron said, before he explained.

“That _is_ odd,” Harry said, “But it’s Neville too.”

“Well, if you’ll excuse me,” Ron said, “I want a shower, let Gia have a suck on you.”

“Don’t put that idea into his head!” Hermione said to Ron.

“Here?” Harry said, “It’d be brilliant, of course.”

“Don’t by chance have something better to wear?” Gia asked.

“Nice fashion,” Ron said.

“It’s not like we had a bunch of choices,” Harry said, “We weren’t exactly dressed … didn’t even have anything with us for that.”

“This shower idea sounds nice,” Gia said.

“If it weren’t for this, I’d join you,” Harry said, “Even bang Gia, guess, Ron, that’ll be your task.”

“Harry!” Hermione snapped.

“I’ll suffer,” Ron said, smiling.

“Okay, you finish him then, if you want,” Harry said, “Ron’s clearly frustrated, needs relief.”

Gia laughed, Ron chuckled.

“Well, what are we going to do?” Hermione asked.

“Let Harry bang Gia, right here,” Ron said, “We’ll close the screens, act as—”

Harry began to glare.

“What?!” Harry exclaimed.

“As a _Professor_ , I have the right and duty to check,” Professor Lupin said as he entered, came over to Harry, “So the rumors are true.”

“It’s nothing,” Harry said.

“You are in a Hospital bed,” Professor Lupin said.

“Careful,” Ron said, his eyes studying the professor, “Do **NOT** harass him for seeking these services here.”

Ron and Lupin locked eyes, while Harry’s bottle green darted between the pair.

“Pomfrey said—” Harry said.

“That is _Madam_ Pomfrey—one point,” Professor Lupin said, his eyes now on Harry, “Don’t get me wrong, I am happy that you came in, however, I’d still would like to know why.”

“Freak accident,” Harry said, “Some rocks fell. It’s normally a safe place to be.”

“We came immediately,” Gia said, before giving a partial explanation.

“Do you have any idea the seriousness of the situation?” Lupin sat down on a stool. “This time you were lucky—what if you were permanently knocked out? They’d—”

“As happened during the summer,” Ron said, “Muggles would—”

“A patient is trying to rest!” Madam Pomfrey rounded around the corner, pointing to Ron, Hermione, and Gia. “Professor Lupin, can you have a look at something?”

“I want you here,” Harry said to Gia as she stood.

“Lets see to this shower idea,” Gia said.

“Bang it!” Harry said to Ron.

Hermione rolled her eyes, followed Ron and Gia out of the Hospital Wing. They went up the steps. They made it to Gryffindor Tower, up into the sixth year boys’ dormitory, entered. Ron pulled his shirt, his trousers off, walked into the shower. Gia pulled the bathrobe off, stood naked in the dormitory, followed Ron into the shower.

“You’re not going to seriously entertain Harry’s idea?” Hermione said, her eyes glaring at his growing erection.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Ron said, “Why not? And, join us, there’s enough room for you too.”

Hermione, though, stayed there, watched both Ron and Gia letting the hot water pour over them.

“Harry’s no stranger to the Hospital, is he?” Gia asked.

“Nope, doesn’t know them,” Ron said, taking the soap and massaging Gia’s shoulders.

Hermione snorted.

“I take it he’s a frequent visitor then,” Gia said.

“He’s more familiar with the Hospital than most,” Ron said, working her back.

“Professor Lupin was right,” Gia said, “Harry had his lights knocked out, if he didn’t wake up—he might not have made it.”

“What–if, a dangerous game,” Ron said, working her buttocks, while his hard cock kept pressing against her tail bone, “He cared enough about you to come back, think about that.”

“I still see him laying there,” Gia said, turning around, “My heart stopped, I thought he was dead.”

“Harry’s had a lot of close calls over the years,” Ron said, “Only takes one to fail, still, he’s here, he’ll be able to play…”

Ron studied the soft bosoms, each one resting in the palm of his hands, supporting them. He had, of course, seen them many times, though perhaps Harry’s suggestion had stuck in his head. What Ron did know, though, was that all previous thoughts had drained out, he marveled at the softness and knew his stiff erection wasn’t going anywhere.

“You are going to bang, aren’t you?!” Hermione snapped before she ran out.

“Hermione’s got issues?” Gia asked.

“Never quite in step with Harry’s idea,” Ron said, “I think it’s a good one, and right now, its definitely on my mind.”

Gia’s hands felt Ron’s scrotum, his hard cock.

“Mind if I peed?” Gia asked.

“No problem, see the—” Ron started, only to be stopped by the smell, the extra sensation.

Ron glanced down. Even though they were in the shower, with both heads pouring out, her breasts had created enough shelter, and he could see the extra shower head, between her legs, jutting out the yellow stream, getting Ron’s hard erection, his testicles, as she peed.

“Harry likes that,” Gia said.

“He pisses in his sleep, likely reminds him,” Ron said.

A glint of light, and Ron swore to himself that it was his hard erection doing the move, as it plunged inward, fully immersing his cock inside Gia.

“Oh,” Gia said, “I’ll give you one thing, you are handsome.”

It was a line that Ron realized he was crossing, something he didn’t do all summer, despite Harry having given the green light. He was starting to fuck Harry’s girlfriend, with his blessing, of course, but still, a first.

“Does this help?” Ron asked.

“A bit,” Gia said.

Ron pulled, letting the suction of his glans against her vaginal wall do its thing, noting it felt different, a bit softer than Hermione’s. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he kept flexing his hips, sliding it back and forth.

“Fucking his girlfriend?” Seamus said, entering the dormitory, “Suppose that’s one way to make the history books, being murdered by Harry Potter.”

“Bug off,” Ron said, “Or I’ll have to teach you to bang.”

Ron ignored Seamus, focused on Gia, let her hands guide him a bit, to apply more pressure as his shaft moved. He kept pushing and pulling, she breathed, and his testicles kept swinging as they hit on her. Ron started to stumble, as the enormity hit him as he felt the pressure begin to release; he pulled out as the salvo fired.

“Sealed your fate,” Seamus said, “Later.” Seamus left.

Gia reached down, held Ron’s still ejaculating hard dick.

“Thank you,” Gia said. She pulled Ron closer, kissed him.

“It’s nearly dinner time,” Ron said.

Ron ran the soap on Gia, washed her breasts for a moment, before bringing the soap onto himself. They quickly washed, walked back into the rest of the room, drying with fluffy white towels.

“Don’t mind?” Gia said, “Harry’s a bit small for me.”

“Fine,” Ron said.

Gia dressed with Ron’s spare casual clothes, while Ron reused what he had been wearing earlier. Ron escorted Gia out, they went down the stairs, where Hermione was glaring at them.

“She’s not happy,” Seamus said.

“Really?” Ron said, before addressing Hermione, “Dinner?”

“Go ahead,” Gia said to Ron; Gia went over to Hermione.

Ron, however, took the hint, left, headed for the Great Hall. As he passed the Hospital Wing, Neville came out. Neville’s briefs had been cleaned, but he was still wearing them.

“Hi Ron,” Neville said, “I’m starving.”

They went down the steps, entered. It was clear from the nearly empty dishes that they were toward the end of dinner, that most of the other students had already ate. Neville and Ron sat across from each other at the Gryffindor Table. Ron grabbed at the ham, put it onto a plate.

“Did they figure out what happened?” Ron asked.

“Big mystery,” Neville said, piling on some of the hash, “Madam Pomfrey found Veritaserum in me, while Professor Dumbledore thinks I had a Memory Charm—like I really needed _that_.”

“It is weird,” Ron said, hoping Hermione could figure it out.

* * *

“Hermione!” Gia shouted, following her along the corridors.

“What’d you expect?” Hermione demanded, turning around, glared at Gia, “You—”

“I did as was asked!” Gia said, “As was needed!”

“Necessary?” Hermione stammered, “I assume you went all the way!”

Hermione moved on, Gia ran to catch up.

“You’re not looking at the big picture,” Gia said.

“i know _what_ the big picture is!” Hermione retorted.

“No, no you do not,” Gia replied.

“You think you know everything!” Hermione said.

“We’re going to do this Ron’s way,” Gia said, pushing Hermione against the nook of a wall, Gia’s hands slipping underneath Hermione’s shirt, sliding onto Hermione’s breasts, held them. “Harry’s heart is big, really big, he loves me, he loves you, and he even loves Ron; it doesn’t diminish us. But understand this, Harry could easily have _died_! Harry was knocked out, just lucky he came back a minute later, but that’s one of the longest minutes of my life!”

“Harry bounces back, he always does,” Hermione said.

“So does everybody, until that one time they don’t,” Gia said, “What if this was that one time? Ron was reassuring me in his own way.”

“He certainly did,” Hermione said, grumpily.

“Look, they stopped fighting over _you_ ,” Gia said, she massaged Hermione’s breasts, “And we’re not fighting over Harry either. I admit the first time I saw Harry banging you, it wasn’t easy, but I know he loves me and you. I’m willing to share him with you because you mean a lot to him. Can we agree to share Ron? He’s handsome too, a cute boy, and he’s got a really big heart too. How’s your heart?”

“I…” Hermione said.

“We understand it’s not easy, sharing,” Gia said, “Both of them want to pretend that Ron is to you, and Harry’s just to me, but they’re lying to themselves. Yet, I don’t want to break it, because it’s noble, and I like it. I mean, if we’re being open, I think Harry and Ron have gotten onto each other too.”

“I know we made them make up, that one time,” Hermione said.

“I think they’ve done it since,” Gia said, “Which is fine, if they need to apologize, make up, or bond their friendship a bit tighter, that’s in their blood, isn’t it?”

“I guess so,” Hermione said.

“We’re all important,” Gia said, “What you feel matters, so does Ron, so does Harry, it all matters to us; we’re the family Harry has left.”

Hermione took a moment, thinking it over.

“Besides, gives me a chance to compare,” Gia said, “Ron’s really got to work on you, doesn’t he?”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked.

“Felt like Ron expected it to take a while,” Gia said, “Had me going before he did. Harry, took a bit, but he’s getting okay there. Perhaps its the girth.”

“So,” Hermione said, “We’re comparing notes?”

“Why not?” Gia said, “We’ve got two handsome boys, both dedicating themselves to us, lets share, double the company, double the pleasure.”

“It’s hard to get used to,” Hermione said.

“Tough to watch that first time, the second time, right?” Gia said, “Remember, I love you too.”

Gia leaned in, kissed Hermione.

“I…” Hermione uttered as Gia pulled back.

“Besides, I just got one dirty thought,” Gia said, pulling her hands back out of Hermione’s shirt, “Best not to do it here.”

“What is it?” Hermione asked.

“Lets see how Harry’s getting along, alright?” Gia asked, changing the topic.

They walked, descended, until they reached the first floor. They entered the Hospital Wing, it was already deep into the evening, the windows were dark outside.

“I told you I haven’t had to go!” Harry exclaimed.

“That bedpan has been charmed to induce a sample!” Madam Pomfrey said.

“It hasn’t worked,” Harry said.

Gia and Hermione slipped behind the screen, Harry was glaring at Madam Pomfrey. Harry had white pajamas on, the blanket lumped over to the side, though the back of his pajama bottoms were down enough to seal his buttocks to a bed pan.

“This is for patient privacy!” Madam Pomfrey said.

“I’m his _girlfriend_ ,” Gia said, “There’s nothing I haven’t seen!”

“Hi,” Harry said to Gia.

“What kind of sample are we going for?” Hermione asked.

“Stool sample,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“I’ll get it for you,” Gia said.

“I wasn’t—” Harry started.

“You’re a big boy,” Gia said to Harry, “Hold your legs up.”

Harry did this, and Gia pulled the pajamas bottoms a bit further, to his knees, to expose the anus and his genitals.

“This’ll be easier for you,” Hermione said to Madam Pomfrey.

Gia patted Harry’s testicles. She moved her hand down, her finger pushed into his anus, and she massaged around it, inward, outward.

Pfffpt!

Gia pulled her finger out, and the sludge began to creep out. Harry let out a long mass. Gia held the bedpan for it to fall into. Gia grabbed the washcloth as she waited for Harry to finish; she cleaned her finger. After Harry stopped, she wiped around the anus.

“Mr. Potter performed, for you,” Madam Pomfrey said, taking the bedpan.

“Perhaps,” Gia said, “Look, I know you mean well, and we can trust our lives to you, but your bedside manner is medieval. If you need another _sample_ , let me know, I can get it.”

“And you—” Madam Pomfrey pointed at Harry, his legs still up, still mooning them “—cut that out!”

Madam Pomfrey watched as Harry pulled the pajama bottoms back to cover his butt, laid his legs down. She left and the screens moved out of the way, leaving Harry in the clear.

“See?” Gia said to Hermione, “I know my boyfriend.”

“So,” Ron asked as he came in, “Are we having sex yet?”

“It’s the Hospital Wing!” Hermione stammered.

“It’s well understood that sex helps recovery,” Ron said, scholarly.

“Where did you learn this, Ronald?” Hermione asked.

“Dunno,” Ron said, “Figured it’s worth a try.”

Harry laughed.

“And why are you wearing those?” Ron asked, his eyes glanced at the pajamas.

“I was made to,” Harry said, pulling at the collar, “Won’t let me sleep naturally.”

“Rotten luck,” Ron said, “Here.”

Ron moved the privacy screen back into place.

“Thank you,” Gia said as she sat on the bed. She reached for the top button.

“You wouldn’t believe how itchy these are,” Harry said.

Gia undid the buttons for the pajama top, pulled it apart, exposed the chest. She plied, massaged his shoulders.

“What are you doing?” Madam Pomfrey asked as she came in, between the screens, “I knew something was up—OUT!”

“These were uncomfortable,” Gia said.

“It is the minimum standard of _dress_ in the Hospital Wing,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Mr. Potter needs a good night of rest, so leave!”

“He sleeps better with me,” Gia said.

“OUT!” Madam Pomfrey ordered.

“Best to do as she says,” Harry said.

Ron, Hermione, and Gia left the Hospital Wing.

“Thanks for trying,” Gia said to Ron.

“Not surprised,” Hermione said, “His mind’s always parked there.”

“Hermione,” Ron grumbled.

“It is, isn’t it?!” Hermione stammered.

Hermione ran ahead. Ron and Gia made their way to Gryffindor Tower, entered. Hermione was standing at the foot of the stairs to the girls’ dormitories. Ron and Gia started for these.

“You’ve got no business up here tonight,” Hermione said to Ron, “Unless you’re picking up another.”

“Can we enlarge your bed?” Ron asked.

“Show her Harry’s!” Hermione exclaimed, “It’s empty!”

Hermione stormed up the stairs. Ron and Gia went up to the sixth year boys’ dormitory.

“You don’t know when to quit, Weasley,” Seamus said; he shook his head as he left the dormitory.

Ron stripped, climbed into his four poster, laid on his right side. Gia removed her clothes, a bit slower, crawled in front of him, laid with her back against Ron’s chest.

“Could take you back to your bedroom,” Ron whispered.

“Harry’s here,” Gia said.

Gia pushed backward, Ron’s soft todger pressed against her back, and she grabbed his buttock. She moved her hand, pulled Ron’s thighs until they met hers.

“Harry’s bed?” Ron whispered.

“No,” Gia said. Her hand fiddled with Ron’s todger, massaged it hard into her backside. “Want him.”

Ron came to understand it, Gia and Harry _hadn’t_ slept apart in ages, none of them really hadn’t; Gia was using Ron as a surrogate, and Ron accepted it. He reached around, cupped and held her breast.

“Sorry if I got you into trouble,” Gia whispered.

“Do it again,” Ron said, “You’re daring, likely why you’re a good fit for Harry.”

Gia began to snore, Ron held her until fatigue took him over and fell to sleep.


	17. Tea

Hermione entered the Hospital Wing, wearing her pink jumper and blue jeans, came to Harry’s bed. Harry was curled on his right side, teeth chattering. His bare butt exposed from beneath the blanket, the pajama bottoms laid torn into pieces on the floor. Hermione sat down, pulled up her right sleeve, and reached with her right hand, delving underneath the blanket; she felt along the groin, reached his pubic, and found his soft penis. It was damp, a bit further, and held her finger against his slit, her hypothesis confirmed as she felt the warm liquid dribbling past. Hermione grabbed her wand with her left hand, summoned a white towel, and stuffed the towel under the blanket in front of Harry’s groin, pushed it against his penis, soaking in his urine. She pulled the blanket, covered his bare butt as Madam Pomfrey came over.

“This patient—” Madam Pomfrey said.

“He needs friends too,” Hermione protested. It was the truth, even though she was helping to cover up that Harry was wetting the bed.

“Then behave,” Madam Pomfrey said, before returning to her office.

Hermione’s hand went for the chest between the open top of the pajamas, held the soft tissue, not as defined as Ron’s but Harry was still her friend. She couldn’t shake it out of her head, having seen Ron shagging Gia. Hermione heard the chitter from Harry’s teeth subside, the eyelids started to flutter.

“Oh,” Harry said, his eyes briefly opened.

“Toying with me?” Hermione asked.

“No, thought you were Gia,” Harry replied.

“Could do Ron, heard he’ll do anything that’ll move,” Hermione said, “Or doesn’t move.”

“What’s happening now?” Harry asked, sitting up.

“Him…Gia…” Hermione muttered.

“Oh, they banged?” Harry said, “Should tell him it’s alright.”

“You’re not helping by _endorsing_ it!” Hermione said.

“We’re not property, nobody owns us,” Harry said, “That includes Gia, that includes you. We’re in this together, you, me, Gia, _and_ Ron. The only way you’ll be left behind is if you **want** to be left behind.”

Hermione shook her head.

“And what’s this doing here?” Harry asked, pulling out the stained white towel.

“Wouldn’t know, maybe Madam Pomfrey?” Hermione lied. She knew Gia said nothing either, one of those things best left alone.

“Maybe Ron should do Gia a bit more,” Harry said, “Show that he still cares about you.”

“Funny way to do it,” Hermione replied.

“Care to sneak me out, you know, so we can check up on them,” Harry said.

“I agree with Gia here, you’re staying put,” Hermione said, resting her right hand on his stomach, “Teach you for playing with rocks.”

“I wasn’t playing with them,” Harry said, “They fell onto _me_.”

Harry brought his feet toward him, lifting his legs, the blanket moved upward; Hermione saw the black pubic hair, and the soft dick resting in it. Harry’s fingers held it upright, waved the todger around; Hermione watched.

“Point of the hike was for Gia to play with this,” Harry said, “All weekend long.”

“Of course,” Hermione said.

“Go ahead, do you good,” Harry said.

“You just want somebody to play with it,” Hermione said.

“That too,” Harry said.

“You and Ron are just alike in that regard,” Hermione said.

“So what?” Harry said, “Share my toy with my friends, want me to do something?”

Hermione reached, held the softness, teased the foreskin. Harry’s dick stiffened.

“See?” Hermione said, her hand massaged the hard cock.

“You can trust that we all love you,” Harry said, “Ron gets hard, I get hard, and Gia—what do girls do together?”

“Use your imagination,” Hermione said.

“Its just not good to keep secrets,” Harry said, “It’d destroy us.”

“Like this is a secret,” Hermione said, her right hand still massaging, stroking Harry’s hard erection..

“I’m not keeping it from you,” Harry said, “I don’t mind.”

“Of course you don’t,” Hermione said.

Harry breathed deeply, exhaled, as the first salvo launched; his off white sticky semen poured out, pooling into his pubic hair.

“Ta!” Harry said.

“I’m sorry—” Hermione started.

“No secrets, remember?” Harry said as he drifted back asleep.

Hermione summoned another towel, placed it over Harry’s crotch, rolled him over, and drew the blanket.

“So that’s what you needed to talk to him about,” Ron said, entering the Hospital Wing.

“I—” Hermione stammered.

Gia came over, sat on the bed with Harry, stroked the earlobes.

“Come,” Ron said, extending his hand to Hermione.

Hermione took the hand; together, Ron and Hermione left the Hospital Wing, went outside. A bit of the morning sun pushed away a bit of the fog as they came to the shore of the lake.

“I understand,” Ron said, “I’m okay with it.”

“You and Harry both think with your dicks!” Hermione snapped.

“He explained it to me,” Ron said, turning to face her.

“Oh, the open fuck policy?” Hermione asked.

“That he wants us all to be friends, be his family, more of a four–way relationship,” Ron said, “I’m on board with it even. Sure, I don’t really know what I’m getting into, but I trust Harry. You trust him too, or we wouldn’t be talking.”

“You’re confusing things,” Hermione said.

“Maybe I would’ve noticed how beautiful you can be even without us hanging out with Harry,” Ron said, “But it certainly helped. And as he’s not wanting us to be blind, we ought to go in eyes wide open.”

“You like rationalizing it all!” Hermione said.

Ron grabbed, held her hands.

“Hermione,” Ron said, “His is a dangerous idea, but a worthy one. Do you love me? Harry? Gia?”

Hermione snorted.

“Maybe,” Hermione said.

“Would you be standing here if you didn’t?” Ron asked.

“No,” Hermione said, giving a bit of a grin.

“I love you, I love Gia, and I even love Harry,” Ron said, “Harry’s idea is simple, an open relationship, between you and me, and them. We need to explore and drop the jealousy; like you teasing Harry, I’ve learned to be fine with it. I’d like you to be fine if me and Gia do something too.”

Hermione glared.

“You are not being left out,” Ron said, “I still love you.”

Ron pulled Hermione close, they hugged.

“You didn’t by chance lick the honey from Harry’s todger?” Hermione asked.

“You go first,” Ron said.

Hermione snorted.

“He did suggest a reason why,” Ron said, “You think You–Know–Who’s given up?”

“No,” Hermione said.

“Harry thinks we all ought to be a bit closer,” Ron said, “I think he’s right.”

Ron kissed Hermione.

* * *

Harry woke again late Sunday morning, yawned.

“Good, you’re awake,” Madam Pomfrey said, coming over, “I’ll check you once more.”

“You’re _always_ checking!” Harry grumbled.

“Humor me Mr. Potter,” Madam Pomfrey said, getting out her wand.

“Need more samples?” Harry asked.

“Only if you wish to,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“No,” Harry said, standing of of the bed, he was naked.

“Your pajamas?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“Dunno,” Harry said, “More comfortable without them.”

Madam Pomfrey waved her wand, ran it across Harry.

“All better,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Hagrid stopped by while you were asleep, offered tea.”

“Thanks,” Harry said as he started for the door.

“Use these so you don’t walk around starkers,” Madam Pomfrey said, handing him a clean pair of pajamas.

Harry put these on, continued. Bare foot after bare foot on the marble, Harry went out of the castle. He stayed just off the path, slipping his feet between the blades of the grass; which started as worn but became more lush as he came to Hagrid’s Hut.

Knock! Knock!

“Been wondering if yeh forgot where I live,” Hagrid said, “Won’t tell them a patient’s missing. Come in.”

Harry left his pajama top unbuttoned and open as he came into Hagrid’s Hut. Gia, Ron, and Hermione were already sitting around the table; Fang was laying beneath their bare feet. Harry went for Gia, wrapped his arms around her, kissed.

“Hagrid’s a teacher,” Ron said to Harry, “Don’t bang her in front of him.”

Hermione shook her head.

“Mind giving Harry a moment to bang?” Ron asked Hagrid.

“I’m fine,” Harry said, sitting next to Gia. She slipped her left hand beneath the waist band to his pajamas, held his testicles. Harry smiled as his erection grew below the table. Fang sniffed at Harry’s feet. “Better than fine, now. These pajamas…tried sleeping in them? They itch, they even tugged at my hair when I slept, unless that was you.” He glanced at Gia’s face.

“Your _Madam Pomfrey_ kept tossing me out!” Gia exclaimed.

Hagrid poured tea, passed the cups around. Gia started to work at the treacle fudge with her right hand, while her left worked the pajamas, letting the erection out, between the flaps of cloth, though still hidden below the table from eyesight.

“I told you she doesn’t take kindly to that sort of behavior—” Hermione started.

“Harry’s got a right to it!” Ron said, “Banging is the best medicine there is!”

“She knows yeh well?” Hagrid asked Harry.

“Yeah,” Harry said as she teased his foreskin.

“Really well,” Ron said, “Made him a real wizard.”

“Ron!” Hermione snapped.

“Well, she did,” Ron said, “Like you made me one too.”

Hermione glared.

“How was yer holiday?” Hagrid asked.

“Mmm…mmm…” Gia mumbled, her jaw remaining closed.

“Oh!” Harry exclaimed, seeing her hand with treacle fudge, “Just relax.”

Harry brought his mouth to hers, his tongue moved in, licked at where the fudge had cemented her mouth shut. Gia’s hands moved off the erection, moved beneath the cloth over his hips, letting the dick tap on her as he stayed leaning in. Harry’s tongue kept reaching in, and he enjoyed this way of getting at the fudge.

“Have a piece,” Ron said as he handed Hermione a bit of the treacle fudge.

“As if,” Hermione said.

“We had a wonderful time Hagrid,” Ron said before he started to delve into the details of their trip.

Harry had worked the rest of the fudge from Gia’s mouth, her mouth could move, but it remained. They swapped teacups, listening, filling in, as Ron told the tale. Repeatedly, Gia pushed her left hand against the teacup, held it until it was as hot as she could tolerate, before she reached down and grabbed Harry’s hard cock; Harry winced each time. Eventually their teacups were empty, and Gia still teased, lightly, though they kept it primarily beneath the table, out of eyesight. Harry was not innocent in this, his hand had slipped beneath her pants, felt her clitoris. Ron, though, kept talking, recounting their steps until they reached Charlie’s and the Dragon Colony when Hagrid’s face lit up.

“Yeh saw dragons?” Hagrid asked, “How’s Norbert?”

“Norbert was there,” Ron said.

“Does he remember yeh?” Hagrid asked.

“Think so,” Ron said.

Harry looked at Ron.

“I think Norbert’s the one that charged us,” Ron whispered into Harry’s ear.

“Dragons are magnificent,” Gia said, “Almost as much as Harry.” Harry blushed as Gia pumped his hard cock; Harry responded by pushing his right middle finger into her vagina.

Gia kept the foreplay light, repeatedly touching and abstaining from Harry’s dick, while his fingers kept working her; she had expanded to stretch at his pubic hair, and massage into his testicles, while also keeping watch of Hagrid’s eyes, movements, to keep the play out of his sight as they all chatted for most of the day. They worked to cover the remainder of the holiday including the events after their trip. By early evening, the topic shifted to the dragons Hagrid wanted for class.

“Nothing teaches better an trying to raise te creatures,” Hagrid said, “Especially Dragons.”

“It would be nice to raise them,” Ron said, “Though your hut is not the best location.”

Hermione scowled at Ron, Harry smirked.

“At least a field trip teh see em,” Hagrid said, “Most only seen them during the Tournament.”

“That didn’t do them justice,” Harry said, “Most of the time they don’t behave like that.” Harry sipped at his tea, Hagrid beamed for a moment.

“They only get hostile when yeh try teh bully em like any good creature would,” Hagrid said, “Bullying is the first thing most wizards attempt to do with a dragon.”

“What has Dumbledore said?” Ron asked.

“Haven’t asked him yet,” Hagrid said, “I need things worked out firs’.”

“See?” Ron whispered into Harry’s ear.

“Well, for dragon eggs, we could ask Charlie,” Hermione said, “To raise them, we need to be able to corral them.”

“You, like … have this big stone castle,” Gia said, “There’s gotta be at least one room you could use.”

Hagrid smiled at Gia.

“Sure, Hogwarts can host a lot of dragons,” Ron said, “Good for the winter months, it does get a bit cold in there.”

Gia’s finger slipped along Harry’s shaft, her hand still beneath his pajamas, the bladder nearing full, and he felt the tremor, the spasm, and he slid his hand to pull hers off.

“Um…” Harry said, “Best be going.”

Harry didn’t feel like asking Hagrid for permission to bang Gia right there, instead, best to get Gia home first.

“Yeah,” Ron said, picking up on Harry’s vibe, “They ought to be serving dinner about now.”

“Come ‘gain,” Hagrid said, “Nearly dark.”

“We will,” Hermione said.

Harry moved carefully, put his back toward Hagrid fast, held the button of his pajamas bottoms together so they’d stay up, and left Hagrid’s Hut into the growing dusk; his erection still jutting outward from his pajamas bottoms.

“That explains it,” Hermione said, glancing at Harry’s hard cock.

“I didn’t feel like I should be making a mess under the table onto his floor,” Harry said, “Not very good of house guests.”

“Could just cover it up,” Hermione said.

“Madam Pomfrey’s sizes leave no room for this to be comfortable,” Harry said.

“Here,” Gia said.

Harry turned toward her. Gia fastened the top button of the pajamas bottoms, the erection, his scrotum, still hung out.

“See you at Quidditch tryouts,” Ron said to Harry.

Ron and Hermione made for the front door, while Harry and Gia went for the door beneath Gryffindor Tower.

“Could try to hide,” Gia said.

“You want me to?” Harry asked.

“No, but it is your school,” Gia said.

Harry had already weighed it in his mind, he figured it better to let them swing free, despite the occasional glance as they came across another student. They made it to the seventh floor, entered the tower. A few people glanced at Harry parading his hard erection jutting outward as he crossed the common room, before him and Gia went up the stairs. Harry paused.

“It also gives em an explanation why we’re not going to come back down,” Harry whispered.

They continued, entering the dormitory.

“There you are Potter!” Seamus said, glancing up from his small desk.

“So what?” Harry asked.

“To provide that sample,” Seamus said, “Healer from St. Mungo’s is in the Hospital Wing—”

“What sample?” Harry asked, “What healer?”

“Just need the usual,” Seamus said.

“One urine sample—catch!” Harry said.

Harry wasn’t certain if Seamus had caught on in the brief split second; Harry’s hard cock was already pointed toward Seamus, still sitting, when Harry let the bladder assert control. Harry peeed. Harry’s warm, yellow, jet hit Seamus’s shirt, soaked in.

“Disgusting!” Seamus said.

“It’s my sample!” Harry retorted.

“You’re a filthy animal,” Seamus said.

“Yep,” Harry said, still pissing, “Need my number two?”

“No,” Seamus said.

“Best hurry, that healer wants that shirt,” Harry said as his juet came to a halt.

“Stay right here until I get back,” Seamus said, leaving the dormitory.

Harry pulled off his pajamas.

“Freedom!” Harry exclaimed.

“That—gizmo, works from anywhere,” Gia said, “Why come back here?”

“Because it’s semi–private, and, the Portkey is in the backpack,” Harry said, fishing out his wand and the pin, “Besides, we showed up naked.”

Gia understood, removed Ron’s clothes.

“Underneath his bed is fine,” Harry said.

Gia folded them, put them onto Ron’s trunk.

“Now you’ll just confuse him,” Harry said, “Hold on.”

Gia held the pin, the backpack, as he took his wand, activated the Portkey.

“That was a bit mean, what you did back there,” Gia said as the Portkey whisked them along.

“Really?” Harry said, “He’s the one insisting I submit to perpetual examinations! He deserved it.”

They landed in her bedroom, in Noigate. Gia stumbled, Harry caught her, as shouting came from outside the bedroom door. Harry and Gia glanced at each other; Gia shrugged.

“Why the fuck—” Andy shouted.

“And your—” Richard yelled, cutting Andy off.

“did you lock—” Andy retorted as she returned the favor.

“concern is—” Richard shouted.

“their DOOR!?” Andy shouted.

Harry jiggled the knob, found it to be indeed, locked. Gia sat on the bed.

“SO?!” Richard exclaimed.

Harry disengaged the lock.

“KEYS for your thieving accomplices—!” Andy snapped.

Harry sighed as he opened the door. “Mind keeping it—?!”

“See?!” Richard pointed at Harry.

Harry quickly assessed Richard and Andy, neither planning to leave the house. Andy had on a bra, and just her bra, leaving her shaved pubics plainly visible. While Richard apparently found a pair of boxers, for he was wearing a red pair. Andy’s eyes flickered for a moment, studied the hard erection that Harry was sporting, with the loose testicles, before her glare returned to Richard.

“Headline—ASSHOLE’s ASSHOLE SPEAKS!” Andy snapped.

“Jackass!” Richard snapped.

Richard went for Gia’s door; Andy lunged and ripped off Richard’s boxers, his partially engorged circumcised penis hung forward.

“Careful you arse kiss—” Richard yelled.

Andy kicked from behind Richard, her foot came up swift, it went right between his legs, impacting his testicles.

“Oww—” Richard tumbled into Gia’s room, laid on the floor on his back, while he clutched his balls beneath the partially aroused statue.

“Bloody bullocks!” Harry exclaimed as he closed the door.

Richard locked the door. 

“Sorry, she’s got some fetish with seeing my arse,” Richard said.

Harry grabbed his wand.

“Can’t escape—!” Andy banged on the door.

A small spark from the wand, a black mark on the door as the curse passed through onto Andy.

“Shit!” Andy slammed the bathroom door shut.

“Ta,” Richard said as he moaned for another minute.

Gia moved forward, laid on the bed, head over the foot of it, her eyes watched Richard’s hands still clutching his scrotum. Richard blushed deeply as the circumcised flesh stiffened, the erection jutting up toward Gia.

“Should wash it,” Gia said, “Still, it’s handsome.”

“Glad _you_ approve,” Richard grumbled.

“It is, should flaunt it,” Gia said.

“We were planning on—” Harry started, pointing to his own hard erection.

“We could’ve done it back at Hogwarts,” Gia said.

“Yeah, and get those rumors spread around!” Harry said, “Figured we’d have a chance.”

“You got me worked up,” Gia said, “I’m _interested_.”

Harry reached down, grabbed Richard’s hand, pulled him up.

“Closer,” Gia said, her hands encouraging Harry and Richard to step even closer, until Harry’s foreskin wrapped tip was above Richard’s pink glans, “Better.”

“She just wants to look,” Richard said.

“She gets that way at times,” Harry said, stepping toward Gia, until his hard cock rested against her nose, “Solve it for her.”

“Hey,” Gia said to Richard, “I wouldn’t encourage you to actually cheat, but you could just toss—”

“Hey,” Richard said, “Mum was furious about Saturday, best talk to her _before_ you two bang, like right now.”

“Hogwarts was quicker,” Harry said.

“Try explaining it to her!” Richard said.

Harry snorted.

“I know you did right,” Richard said, “They’re not convinced, it’d do them good to see you.”

Harry sighed, knew Richard was right, let it overrule the desire of his hard erection, and went out of the bedroom. Richard went to his bedroom as Harry went down the stairs. While Harry enjoyed the free swing of his balls, his cock wanted the attention, so instead, Harry simply held his bollocks as he descended.

“So the rumor is true,” Kristen said. She laid a novel on the side of her easy chair. “You are alive.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, coming near her.

“That’s not going to distract me,” Kristen said, her eyes on his cock.

Harry’s foreskin was moving, retracting and restoring itself, repeatedly, as his glans played a game of peekaboo.

“Oh,” Harry said.

Harry sat on the sofa’s edge facing her still cradling the bollocks that were now over the edge between his two spread legs, his bare feet rubbed Snuffle’s belly.

“How Richard managed to cover up, I don’t know,” Kristen said, “Jen was hysterical. I got that rocks crashed down, nearly killed _you_ , yet you apparently insisted on splitting up, taking off without them, a supposedly broken leg, but it now seems all better.”

“As you can see,” Harry said, “I’m fine now and Gia wants my todger.”

Harry’s foreskin was still sliding back and forth, his dick elicited attention. Kristen glanced at the hard erection jutting forward.

“In every other similar case I’ve heard of, it’s a search and rescue,” Kristen said, “With a corpse being a rather frequent occurrence.”

“Would you have heard about it if the case went the other way?” Harry said, “I knew my choices, and I took the one that got me to medical attention the fastest.”

“How?” Kristen said, “It was serious enough to worry Jen, and in my experience, the sanest option would’ve been to stay put while she or Richard went for help.”

“Didn’t think I’d worry her that much,” Harry said.

“Jen does, it’s one reason she and Richard click,” Kristen said, “I do want to know how you made it out, both personally and professionally.”

“I just managed it, that’s all!” Harry said, “As you can see, I’m horny as fuck because I haven’t been able to bang Gia for a while. I do have school tomorrow, so can I go now?”

Kristen studied Harry for a moment, clearly debating. Her eyes also scrutinized the erection that Harry seemed so keen on showing her.

“I suppose I’m going to have to trust you, especially as you’re now an adult, with the responsibilities of being an adult,” Kristen said, “However, do understand that I do care about those living under this roof, I’ve let Gia and you into my heart.

“Good night,” Harry said as he stood up.

Snuffles followed Harry up the stairs, into the bedroom, where Gia was now on her back, feet toward the door. Hedwig hooted as Harry pushed the door until it was nearly closed, but he turned around to the bed, and Sirius was standing there.

“Sirius,” Harry said.

“I’d like to know too,” Sirius said, “I can hear just fine as Snuffles.”

“Was going to tell you, honestly,” Harry said, “We went to the Hospital Wing.”

Sirius took a moment.

“If you don’t mind, my dick wants to get used,” Harry said, pointing to his hard cock, “And Gia here wants to use it.”

Gia nodded, her eyes were on it. Harry climbed on the bed, moved down so he could still see Sirius, but his head near Gia’s crotch, on his hands and knees, straddling so his balls were over her face. Harry began to lick around the labia, with a touch of stubble on the skin.

“Sane, but in front of muggles?” Sirius said, “These muggles seem smart enough to catch onto things! And will you cut that out!?”

“No,” Harry said, “Madam Pomfrey didn’t seem to even like the hint I’ve got a girlfriend.”

“That’s besides the point!” Sirius said.

Harry pushed, was upright above his knees, but his legs straddling Gia as he glared. His loose testicles hung loosely between his parted legs, the hard erection jutting forward.

“I went on that hike so we could do this!” Harry said, “Instead, I spent most of it with Madam Pomfrey. I’m finishing what I started! If you wish to lecture, go ahead, but I’m going to be banging!”

“It was only a small scratch,” Gia said. Her hands latched onto and held Harry’s balls, massaged into them.

“Nothing is small or minor with you Harry,” Sirius said, “ _Everything_ is significant.”

Harry shook his head.

“You may want to be average,” Sirius said, “You’re not—”

“What…?!” Richard stammered as he came quickly through the door, he was still naked, though with a soft penis.

Harry moved fast, leaned back against the door, wand in hand. Sirius froze, but returned the look to Richard. Color drained from Richard’s face, his wide hazel eyes were fixed and glazed.

“You’re…you’re…” Richard muttered.

“I was about to bang Gia, but that evidently has to wait,” Harry grumbled, his hard erection looming forward.

“A memory charm would be in order,” Sirius said.

“No!” Harry said, “We’ll explain—though—” Harry put his wand against Richard’s penis “Don’t do anything hasty.”

“Are you mad?” Sirius exclaimed to Harry.

“Would you mind?” Richard said, “Mum’d freak out if she knew the number one most wanted criminal is in her house!”

“Keep your cool,” Harry said, pulling the wand away from Richard, “I don’t want to risk a Memory Charm even though you did see me use the Portkey.”

“There is a reason for the secrecy decrees,” Sirius said.

“It was an accident,” Harry said.

“Given this family forgets to knock,” Sirius said dryly, “Strong defense there—”

“Just sit, both of you,” Harry said.

Richard and Sirius sat on the foot of the bed. Both turned as Harry went back onto the bed, sat on Gia’s stomach, his hard cock jutting upward.

“Mum’s not just any police officer,” Richard said, “Hosting him isn’t favorable to the career for a chief of police!”

“So don’t tell her!” Harry said. His hands plied into the folds of Gia, teased as he explained, delved into the affairs of Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. “Sirius Black is innocent, totally innocent, and my godfather. Can I please bang now?”

Richard choked for a moment.

“Tops Ant’s shoplifting,” Richard said, “Still, you let him in!”

Harry sighed. “I’ve been hard for hours!” He groaned. “Sirius _is_ Snuffles, literally.” Harry explained the Animagus transformation.

“Tall tale,” Richard said as he snorted.

Sirius transformed. Snuffles sniffed at Richard’s bollocks.

“Now that’s just not right,” Harry said.

“And you’re naked with it all—” Richard started, pointing at Harry’s hard erection.

“Enough!” Harry exclaimed, “Over there!” Harry pointed.

Sirius and Richard moved along the edge of the bed.

“Now watch this!” Harry pointed to his hard cock, “And keep an eye on it!”

Both Sirius and Richard saw the green shimmer.

“It’s the _protection_ I use,” Harry stated.

Harry lifted Gia’s hips, threaded his hard erection into her. He began to flex his hips, to push and pull.

“I don’t get it,” Richard said, “With your emancipation—this isn’t right!”

“What the fuck? And list him as my legal guardian?” Harry asked, pausing himself with his erection inside Gia, “Are you mad?! Blimey!”

“Sirius is here for _my_ protection,” Gia said, “Some wizards want to murder Harry.”

“We’ve got nasty wizards, ones who’d want to see Harry here, dead,” Sirius said, “Gia—you can see Harry’s got his hooks into her—would make for an excellent hostage, to lure Harry in.”

“In case you didn’t realize it, I am interested in Gia,” Harry said, his hips flexed again, his skin remained still as the shaft slid.

“Mum’s important!” Richard said, “She could assign—”

“This is out of her league,” Sirius said.

Knock! Knock!

“At least somebody knocks,” Sirius whispered before he transformed.

“Five minutes, maybe even just one, one minute,” Harry grumbled as he stopped his thrusting.

“Richard, Gia,” Jen shouted, “Can I come in?”

“Swear!” Harry pointed at Richard, “Swear you’ll tell nobody.”

“I swear,” Richard replied.

“That _includes_ Jen,” Harry said, “Don’t tell her either.”

“I swear!” Richard exclaimed.

“Good,” Harry said, “Lemme have some peace with Gia!”

Richard opened the door, Jen came in.

“Oh,” Jen said, to Harry, “You look well.”

“Yeah, _watch_!” Harry exclaimed, “Over her—” Jen moved with his finger “—seem my dick?!”

“Now’s not a good time—” Jen started.

“Yes it **IS**!” Harry snapped, his patience at an end, having been ready for hours.

Harry drilled, hips flexed, pushed his cock as he knew she liked it; however, his hard cock was even more impatient, insisted on going first. Harry pulled out. His first shot moved fast, sailed past Gia’s head, the rest in between, until he was still dribbling just above her clitoris.

Hoot! Hedwig’s eyes focused on Harry.

“Thank you,” Harry said to Jen.

Harry turned over, sat.

“As you can see, he’s doing quite fine,” Richard said while Gia wiped a bit of semen from herself.

“No broken leg?” Jen asked.

“Does it look broken?” Richard asked.

“No,” Jen said.

“Clearly he has full drive,” Richard said, “He looks okay.”

“He’s got school tomorrow too,” Gia said.

“Oh, oh, sorry,” Jen said, “Like your bird.”

Jen stroked a couple of Hedwig’s feathers.

“My bedroom before my Mum catches on,” Richard said.

“Yeah,” Jen said.

Richard and Jen left the bedroom; Richard closed the door. Harry laid on the bed, his dick softening.

“You know,” Gia said, “You could lock the door, avoid these _accidents_.”

“Guess I’m trusting type,” Harry said; he yawned.

Gia moved, sat on his stomach.

“You’re either totally trusting or distrusting to the extreme,” Gia said, “Great for us or your friends like Ron and Hermione, but lousy for defense and precautions. I’ve heard it stated in those defense classes I went to—constant vigilance is the principal lesson. So practice it and lock the damn door! This should be your escape as you want it to be, but you need to protect it. Snuffles helps, but we all must work to protect it. Remember, we’ve got the local Police Chief in the next bedroom, she’d kick us out if she figured out Snuffles. Promise you’ll do this!”

“Alright, alright!” Harry struggled for a moment, wrenched out from beneath her, rolled off the bed. He went past Hedwig’s approving eyes, locked the door, turned off the lights, and climbed back onto the bed.


	18. Quidditch

Harry chugged down the pot of coffee Monday morning, in the kitchen. Richard drank the other one.

“Good thing Mum guzzles this stuff,” Richard said.

Both were naked. Richard handed Harry a pitcher of water; Harry leaned his head back, poured it down his throat, fast. Richard worked on his pitcher.

“Already have to piss,” Harry said.

“Can you hold it to the door?” Richard asked.

“Think so,” Harry replied.

They put the pitchers down, went across the living room. Gia was at the bottom of the steps, still naked.

“Going for a run?” Gia said, “Take pictures.”

“I don’t have a camera,” Harry said, “And I need to piss.”

“And run,” Gia said, “Maybe I’ll take it up, maybe tomorrow.”

Harry’s soft todger changed its mind, stiffened.

“Uping the challenge?!” Richard stammered.

“Looks like it,” Gia said, touching Harry’s hard cock, jutting out from beneath his dark pubic hair, “How far do you think you’ll get?”

“All the way back,” Harry said.

“I’d say you’re wrong, but they just don’t seem to like stopping you for it, do they?” Richard asked Harry.

“Come on, lets go!” Harry said.

“I’d wager it’s Harry,” Gia said.

Richard and Harry left the house, both dicks hard.

“No foreskin either,” Richard said.

“Done,” Harry said, retracting his, so the slit and pink glans was showing, like Richards.

“What’d she mean?” Richard asked as they began to run, their bare feet hit the pavement. A pair of hard rights, and they took the cross trail next to the house.

Richard’s yellow jet began first, as he pissed as they ran. Harry’s started up.

“Dunno,” Harry said, “I mean, we ought to be stopped like this, shouldn’t we?”

“Bloody hell, YES!” Richard said, “Streaking while streaking, guess they just don’t care.”

“Suppose it could be accidental magic,” Harry said.

“What’s that?” Richard asked, as they casually passed a pair of older ladies walking.

Both ladies glanced at the pissing hard dicks, bouncing around, sending the yellow around in patterns, with the bollocks swinging back and forth.

“As in, I can’t always control it,” Harry said, “Like, if I get really mad, or angry, or something, it just happens, something you can’t explain. I once set a snake on my cousin at the zoo, just once.”

“Stuff just happens?” Richard asked, “Seems dangerous.”

“Like a good football player, I’ve just got my own talent,” Harry said, “We’re similar otherwise.”

“It’s a big talent,” Richard replied.

They came to a halt at the traffic light, waited, but still pissed as the cars drove by, including one police car who simply turned on the windshield wipers.

“Alright, that is freaky,” Richard said.

“Maybe it is as simple as I want to get away with it,” Harry said, “I want to run naked, so it’s happening.”

“Not complaining,” Richard said, “Easier than explaining to Mum why I’m pissing a mile long.”

“With my talents, you get used to weird things happen,” Harry said, “It’s almost more weird for things to go normal.”

The light changed, and they crossed.

“Whatever you want to do, I’m not going for the prunes,” Richard said, “Taking a constant leak is one thing, having the runs…count me out.”

“Me neither,” Harry said, shaking his head.

“It _is_ fun,” Richard said.

“Yep,” Harry said, “Ridiculous, but definitely fun.”

“Can’t take too long, need to get back for a shower and school,” Richard replied.

“Suppose you could always toss,” Harry said.

“Save that for Jen,” Richard said.

“Guess I got to enjoy my bollocks dancing after after spending the summer like this,” Harry said, “Maybe that’s why, better to have them free than couped up.”

“So long have you known…your godfather?” Richard asked.

“Several years,” Harry said, “He’s a fugitive even my world, but nobody will believe me, except for a handful, that we saw the one he supposed to have killed, very much alive, well, and betrayed…my parents are dead because of the treachery.”

“I think you’re doing it again,” Richard said, “We’ve been pissing for miles.”

“Want it to stop?” Harry asked.

“No,” Richard said, laughing.

They took a path through some woods, came near the lake, before turning back around.

“I think I could find my way back on my own,” Harry said, as they both saw the pair of continuous zigzagging went lines.

“It’d dry faster than birds can eat bread crumbs,” Richard said, “But just barely.”

Their thighs flexed, as the muscles stretched and contracted; their hard cocks kept swaying as they ran back to 26 Oak.

“Yeah, I think it’s me,” Harry said. Harry tapped the side of Richard’s erection, it stopped peeing; Harry tapped his own. “At least that appears to have been me.”

“It was different,” Richard said as they entered the house.

Harry went up the stairs, glanced at the time on the alarm clock.

“Shit!” Harry said.

Harry grabbed his wand, Portkey, and backpack, tapped.

* * *

Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione left Gryffindor Tower, held hands as they went along, both dressed in their formal slacks and shirts.

“We need a new dress code,” Ron said, “One that’s easier to maintain.”

“You mean you want to go around starkers,” Hermione said.

“Well, I meant girls too,” Ron said, “You know, fairness.”

“Uh–huh,” Hermione retorted.

“It’d make for nice classes if we were all reminded how pretty you are,” Ron said. He took a moment to reconsider. “Sure, your mind shows through, but that shirt tries to hide _everything_.”

“I think that’s the point,” Hermione said, “Besides, its never really warm enough around here for that.”

“Likely them just being cheap, cut back on the heating,” Ron said, “But, think of how much they’d save on laundry!’

“Write it down and submit a petition,” Hermione said.

“Dear Professor McGonagall,” Ron said, pretending to pen a letter in the air, “I hearby request that we change Hermione Granger’s dress code to nothing at all. It’d really improve my concentration to see her starkers all day long. Sincerely, Ronald Weasley.”

Hermione snorted.

“Well, it would,” Ron said.

“Concentration on me, perhaps, but unless you’re suggesting I sit in the front of the class—” Hermione started.

“What a lovely idea!” Ron said, “We’ll just ask Professor McGonagall—”

“Ask me what?” asked Professor McGonagall as Ron and Hermione turned the corner to face her.

“Nothing important,” Ron said, “On our way to breakfast.”

“Which is already underway,” Professor McGongall said, “When you see Mr. Potter, please inform him that I need to see him, it will only take a short while.”

“We will,” Hermione said.

Professor McGonagall headed off, Ron and Hermione entered the Great Hall.

“Your todger must be one confused beast,” Seamus said, starting to leave.

“It’s hanging fine and ready for use!” Ron snapped.

“I didn’t need to know,” Seamus said, leaving.

“YOU ASKED!” Ron retorted.

Hermione pulled Ron to sit at the Gryffindor table.

“He was baiting you,” Hermione said as she sat next to Ron.

“My dick’s just fine,” Ron said, “Wanna check?”

“I’m not give you a hand job at breakfast!” Hermione said.

An owl dropped The Daily Prophet into Hermione’s hands, she opened it, read as she worked through her yogurt.

“We skipped it last night,” Ron said, “It’s underutilized.” Ron grabbed some sausages, ate.

“Not … at … BREAKFAST!” Hermione said.

“Alright, before class?” Ron asked.

“You don’t have time,” Hermione said.

“In class?” Ron asked.

“NO!” Hermione scolded.

Ron sighed when a package was delivered by an owl, to him.

“Read this,” Hermione said, her eyes on the paper, at an article on the back page.

Monday, 2 September, 1996

The Daily Prophet

Potter Fatigue?

Rita Skeeter

Unconfirmed sources indicate that Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, experienced a mental breakdown, having spent the weekend in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry . The school remained silent when I attempted to reach out to verify these claims. Whether this is related to Harry Potter’s sex life has yet to be determined.

“Bloody same codswollop,” Ron said, “Anyways…” He took the note from the brown wrapped package, opened it.

Hello handsome, let this improve the day.

Ron opened the package, lifted the top of the box.

WHOMP!

Yellow dust, pollen, billowed out of the box, covering Ron. He immediately smelled the heavy flowered scent.

“What the—?!” Ron stammered.

“Interesting,” Hermione said.

“I smell like a garden!” Ron grumbled, “What was it?”

“I saw this at Diagon,” Hermione said, “It’s intended for a girlfriend.”

“Ha, ha,” Ron said, “I bet you’re involved in this.”

“No,” Hermione said, “Though you’ll be smelling like that all day.”

“Does it wash off?” Ron asked.

“Should,” Hermione said.

“Come, lets bang in the showers,” Ron said, standing.

“It’s way past time to shower,” Hermione said, “You only have fifteen minutes to class.”

“It’s enough,” Ron said, “See you there.”

Ron ran. He ran up the corridors and stairs, huffing as he came to Gryffindor Tower, and kept running, striping as he ran up the spiral stairs. Ron was naked when he entered the dormitory, his erection was hard and stiff; and a simple brush of his hand against his glans meant the chore had to be done before class. Ron began to stroke his shaft as he entered the shower; Harry was already there, under the other shower head, beneath the hot water, soaping himself up. Harry was also stiff, but was washing himself.

“Good morning,” Harry said as he rinsed, “Should probably do the same. Though, are you wearing perfume?”

Harry stopped the water, his own hand curled on his cock, began to stroke.

“Hermione wouldn’t—” Ron said, “Think she gave me whatever threw it on me.”

“Don’t mind us, just two boys tossing in the shower,” Harry said, “I was hard up too, sometimes gotta bite it and do it yourself.”

“It’d be faster if she—” Ron said, “Mind?”

Ron made no secret, turned his head enough to survey Harry’s body; hard erection jutting outward from beneath the black pubic hair, the loose testicles hanging beneath, the foreskin slipping with the grip. Ron had long been accustomed to seeing it, of course, especially with their summer trip, however, the memories of Harry blowing him were enough to stimulate.

“Ready?” Harry asked.

Ron could see it in the hand, Harry was now pacing, wanted to make a juvenile game of it. Ron took a moment, studied Harry’s warm bollocks hanging freely and swaying with Harry’s slow strokes. It ensnared Ron’s senses, welling up a surge of pride as his cock decided to make the show, felt the urges really build up.

“And—” Ron started.

“Hi ya!” Colin Creevy said, standing a few feet away with a camera in his hands.

Click!

Harry started to turn toward Ron, while Ron turned toward Harry, both working to put their buttocks toward the camera. However, their cocks had other plans.

Click!

Harry’s slit widened first, the white shot out. Ron’s salvo began to fire. They were out of time to react, facing each other, as they traded semen. Ron’s mess drenched Harry’s black pubic hair, while Harry’s coated Ron’s hard cock.

“Eww,” Colin said, “Just wanted a couple of shower shots for Ginny.”

“Looks like Harry’s girlfriend is _safe_ ,” Seamus said, also seeing Harry and Ron in the shower.

“Freak accident,” Ron said.

Click!

“Yeah, _right_ ,” Seamus said, “Sure it was.”

“Get the fuck out of here!” Harry said to Colin, “Take pictures of Ginny!”

“She’s _my_ sister,” Ron said to Harry.

“Alright, alright,” Colin said, “Got what I came for.”

Colin and Seamus left.

“Sorry about that,” Ron said, “He’s a bit annoying.”

Harry turned the water back on, washed the semen out of his pubic hair, worked on his dick. Ron lathered up.

“Wasn’t expecting that,” Harry said, “Still, don’t fret.”

“Yeah,” Ron said, “I only got it onto you.”

“Not like we’ve never sucked on it,” Harry replied.

“Likely won’t be the last time,” Ron replied.

Harry handed a white towel to Ron, before getting one for himself. Ron followed back into the dormitory, drying his hair.

“Another place and it’d be fun,” Harry said, glancing at Ron’s todger before it was covered up by the boxers. Harry got dressed. “Still, if I’ve got to take seed, yours will do fine.”

“No harm, except for Colin’s camera,” Ron said.

“He knows better, right?” Harry said, “I hope so, or we’re screwed.”

Both dressed, they left the dormitory.

“What’s the class?” Harry asked.

“Um…” Ron said, “Potions, I think.”

They ran.

“Ten points each for being tardy,” Professor Snape said, “And five points each for failing to comb your hair.”

“Easy,” Ron whispered to Harry, “Think of Quidditch.”

“Quiet down, lover boys!” Malfoy said to Harry and Ron.

“Quidditch,” Ron whispered.

Harry and Ron moved toward Hermione, who was at a table with Parvati Patil.

“Two at a station,” Professor Snape said.

Harry and Ron went to the empty cauldron, studied the notes on the board, and began to get out their ingredients.

“Isn’t tossing off supposed to fix things?” Ron said to Harry, “I’m hard as a rock.”

“Not here,” Harry said.

Ron, though, didn’t feel the same urgency as Harry. Instead, all Ron could really think about was whether Harry was also hard, though he knew Harry’s trousers would not show it.

“Next ingredient,” Ron said, misreading the board, “Se–cum, your semen Harry.”

“What?!” Harry stammered.

“Sorry sea–cucumber,” Ron said, blushing a bit, “You already gave the former.”

“As did you,” Harry said, bringing the chop blade down onto the leathery creature.

“It’s not like that’s my fault,” Ron said, “Your eyes, those green eyes, are charming.”

“Thank you Ron,” Harry snapped, aggravated.

“Keep your conversation on topic,” Professor Snape said to Harry and Ron, “Ten points, each.”

“By the way,” Ron said, leaning in to Harry, “Nice butt.”

“Stop it,” Harry retorted.

“Well, it _is_ ,” Ron replied.

Ron couldn’t explain it himself; he had seen Harry’s bare buttocks all summer long, but now, in Potions, they were desirable, intensely desirable.

“Focus on the potion,” Harry said.

Several times Ron felt his hand feeling his own hard erection beneath his trousers, which caught some glances and giggles from those around; however, only the stares from Professor Snape kept Ron from actually whipping it out. At the end of lesson, they poured a sample of their red potion into a beaker, set it onto Professor Snape’s desk. They returned to clean up.

“Good job,” Harry said, about to give Ron a high five.

Ron, however, reached around, patted Harry on the butt.

“No credit,” Professor Snape said as he tapped the beaker on the desk. It caught fire. “That is not a Blood Potion.”

“It’s not the only thing that’s hot, is it Potter?” Malfoy asked.

“Come on, hold hands!” Seamus shouted to Harry and Ron.

Hermione followed Harry and Ron out of the Potions Dungeon.

“Sorry I couldn’t help you,” Hermione said, “Parvati insisted, and she does need some help with her potions too.”

“It’s alright,” Ron said, “Come to the bathroom with us.”

“Wasn’t keen to advertise,” Harry said.

“It’s lunch and we need to make room first,” Ron said, “Be ready when it comes to helping Oliver Wood.”

“That’s just me,” Harry said, “One lesson only.”

“I know,” Ron said, “Good to help teach, those first years are getting something special.”

Ron studied the green eyes, green eyes trying to work out what Ron was thinking. Ron led the way to the second floor girls bathroom.

“Some things never change,” Hermione said, “I need to talk with Professor Lupin.”

“He doesn’t need to use this bathroom, does he?” Ron asked.

“No, he was checking that package you got earlier,” Hermione said, “Enjoy.”

Harry and Ron entered the bathroom. Ron immediately unzippered his fly, let the erection fly out.

“Hello Harry,” Moaning Myrtle said.

“Hello,” Harry said, going for a cubicle.

Ron followed.

“There’s plenty of others,” Harry said.

“We’re used to sharing,” Ron replied. He knew he was hard, because this was Harry, Harry was making him hard.

“I need to take a dump!” Harry quipped.

“Good,” Ron said, “I’ve seen that before.”

Harry dropped his trousers, and squatted on the toilet with his shoes on the rim of the toilet. Ron _assisted_ Harry, removed the trousers from Harry’s feet, hung them from the hook on the open cubicle door.

“Close the door,” Harry said.

“Nah, nobody comes in here,” Ron said, dropping his own trousers and boxers to the ankles.

Ron glanced at the soft todger hanging there, between Harry’s legs. Ron, however, pushed on Harry, pinning Harry’s back to the wall. Ron glanced down at the pouch of the bollocks, the anus now bared beneath as Harry’s back was curved, the butt hanging to aim toward the toilet. Ron leaned in, held the pouch with both hands, brought his lips to Harry’s.

“Ron!” Harry said, “I have to take a shit!”

“Go ahead,” Ron said, standing back up.

While Harry could only see Ron’s hard erection jutting in front; Ron watched Harry’s anus, watched it dilate open.

Pfffpt!

“This turning you on?” Harry asked.

“You’ve blown me before,” Ron said, “I wanna see this. I’ve just gotta take a piss, wanna aim my todger for me?”

“You’re horny as a toad!” Harry said.

“Finally felt the effects today,” Ron said, “Feels good.”

Ron aimed his dick, pushed down, began to piss between Harry’s legs. Harry watched the yellow jet through.

“Besides, thought you and Gia had a fetish for pissing,” Ron said.

“I do, but—thanks a lot!” Harry said.

Ron watched the soft sausage stiffen before the anus began to dump. Ron smelled the gas that came with it, watched as the brown logs came out, as Harry took the shit. Ron aimed his dick, pissed onto the floaters.

“Satisfied?” Harry asked.

“Things left to be done,” Ron said.

“Meaning?” Harry asked.

“Find out,” Ron said.

Ron reached, pulled, and lifted Harry’s legs, hooking the legs over the shoulders, while Harry’s head rested on the back of the toilet seat. Ron brought Harry’s buttocks toward Ron’s erection.

“You’re not—are you?” Harry asked.

“You’ve blown me,” Ron said, “Lets try this.”

Ron felt the tight squeeze, tried several times, working until his hard cock pushed into Harry’s dirty anus. Ron felt the slime and the warmth, flexed his own hips to move his erect dick, the skin held in place as the shaft squeezed past the opening.

“My, we are being naughty, aren’t we?” Moaning Myrtle said, smile on her face, now watching.

“Yep,” Ron said.

Ron felt Harry’s testicles bounce against Ron’s abdomen, Harry’s erection wobbled with the motions.

“Should’ve asked,” Harry said.

“I know you’re after this!” Ron retorted.

“Harry! Ron!” Hermione said, coming into view, “What—?!”

“You said I should find other ways to relieve—” Ron started.

“Didn’t mean _this_!” Hermione said.

“That would confirm our theory,” Professor Lupin said, a few steps behind.

Ron pulled out, let Harry down.

“What theory?” Harry asked, reaching for the toilet paper.

“That package, the one that Ron got this morning,” Hermione said, “It was no ordinary perfume. When you add water, it becomes a very powerful aphrodisiac, and given that the first thing you did was to take a shower to wash it off—”

“Which appears to be working,” Professor Lupin said, “Along with an enticement.”

“That’s why I wanted to bang Harry?” Ron said, “He’s simply _beautiful_!”

“Given the rumor that I heard that you two are gay,” Hermione said, “Somebody played a very cruel prank on you.”

“I had to send Colin Creevy to the Great Hall for lunch,” Professor Lupin said, “He was ready with his camera as we approached.”

“Damn!” Harry said as he continued to wipe his arse.

Ron moved over to the sink, proceeded to wash his erection.

“We’ll have to try again,” Ron said.

“What are the options?” Harry asked.

“You could go to the Hospital Wing, to try antidotes—it’d be curious to see which one actually works,” Professor Lupin said, “However, I suspect the easier thing is to just let it take its course.”

“Hurts,” Harry said, rubbing his butt.

“Should be easier now that you know what you’re dealing with,” Professor Lupin said, “Choice, of course, is yours.”

“Think I can manage,” Ron said.

“Don’t take it too personally if I spurn your advances,” Harry said.

“I suspect the rest of your day will prove … interesting,” Professor Lupin said.

After restoring their clothes, Harry and Ron left the bathroom, Hermione followed, down to the Great Hall.

“Don’t hold my hand,” Harry said.

“Oh,” Ron said as he removed his hand from Harry’s.

Snickers, whispering followed as Harry and Ron sat next to each other on the bench at the table.

“You know, at times you can be a real pain in the arse,” Harry said.

“A fun pain, I hope,” Ron said.

“I know it’s not your fault!” Harry said, “Still, it ain’t helping quell those stupid rumors about us being gay!”

“Good choice Ron,” Ginny said, “Only bloke who wouldn’t turn you down.”

“Shove it!” Ron belted back.

“That girlfriend trick had us fooled,” Seamus said, “Not for too long Potter!”

“It’s _my_ LIFE!” Harry said, “Just because you’re fucking up your own sex life—”

“Belt it!” Seamus retorted.

“Then LEAVE ME ALONE!” Harry replied.

Harry left the Great Hall, Ron followed.

* * *

“Are you sure about this Mr. Potter?” Professor McGonagall asked; it was the end of Transfiguration, Ron and Hermione were hanging in the back of the classroom.

“Yes,” Harry said.

“It is generous,” Professor McGonagall said, “Thank you.”

Harry walked to the door.

“What was that all about?” Ron asked.

“Nothing,” Harry said, “I’ve got Oliver Wood next.”

“Learning to fly?” Ron asked.

“It’s about teaching _him_ to fly,” Harry replied.

They laughed. Harry went fast, up the stairs and corridors.

Harry loved Ron, of course, as a friend. Ron was the twin Harry wish he had, instead, they were best friends. A lover wasn’t what Harry had in mind with Ron despite the occasional fling. Whatever dusted Ron that morning made him very eager. Yet, Harry couldn’t settle with the notion that there’s not a potion or charm that can create love, Ron’s emotions had to come from somewhere—maybe Ron was serious about it. However, given the rumor, a lesson away from Ron seemed like a good idea.

Harry entered the dormitory, stopped for a moment. On both Harry’s and Ron’s four poster beds were giant red hearts stuck to them, along with ribbons, in Gryffindor red and yellow, and pink. Bows and flowers were littered on both bed covers and across the floor.

Harry sighed, stripped off his clothes. At this point, Harry realized the fallacy of the decision he made at Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions , for in years past, he’d wear underwear, just in case. He didn’t want to use Ron’s, in light of the decorations, and he’d have to ask before he’d borrow from the others. He didn’t have time to rummage back at Noigate. So, Harry crossed his fingers as he put on his Gryffindor Quidditch robes. Harry opened the window and jumped out into the cold overcast day. Harry mounted his Firebolt as he fell, regained control, and headed for the Quidditch Pitch.

“You know there’s such a thing as _walking_ ,” Oliver Wood said as Harry landed in the middle. Oliver adjusted his dark sweater.

Surrounding Oliver were a bunch of Shooting Stars and a bunch of younger first years. Eyes focused on Harry, and the bare chest exposed down to his naval between the unbuttoned top of his Quidditch robes. Harry immediately understood the disadvantage of the lack of underwear, the coldness of the day caused his nuts to chill up, he felt them pull inward, though his dick seemed to enjoy it, stiffening. Harry was grateful that it didn’t show through the robes.

“Are you _the_ Harry Potter?” asked a tall young blond hair boy in Hufflepuff clothes.

“Yes he is—that’s Buck?” Oliver asked.

“No, it’s Gale,” the boy said.

“Welcome to your first flying lesson,” Oliver Wood said to the group, “Mr. Potter is a sixth year, so he’ll be assisting me as this lesson typically needs. Stand next to your broom.”

Harry put his Firebolt down, as he saw Wood point.

“Now, command your broom,” Oliver said to the group, “ _UP_!”

A Shooting Star went up to Oliver’s hand.

“Up!” came the chorus.

Half of the students’ brooms went up, the other half stayed on the ground.

“Can we fly that?” Gale asked, pointing at Harry’s Firebolt.

“That is Mr. Potter’s and a performance model,” Oliver Wood said, “It is not a beginner’s broom, which is what you first need to learn to fly.”

Harry walked around, demonstrated to a couple of kids; Oliver did the same. One black haired boy with blue eyes, in Gryffindor, stood, trembling.

“It’s easy,” Harry said, approaching him, “All you have to do…”

“Wha…” the boy said, quietly, before simply moving his mouth, the breath giving a bit of steam in the brisk air.

“What’s your name?” Harry asked.

“Ash,” Gale said, standing nearby.

“Ash,” Harry said, “Just got to be determined, own the broom. Try it.”

Ash mumbled, nothing happened.

“Practice it, like this,” Harry said, before his voice boomed, “UP!”

Two brooms snapped upward; Harry caught one, the other settled back down.

Ash mumbled again.

“Speak up,” Harry said.

Ash shook his head.

“Do you want to fly?” Harry asked.

Ash nodded.

“Okay,” Harry said, “Lets try it again.”

Harry watched the blue eyes twitch, hand stretched, the broom rolled over.

“Grab the broom,” Harry said, “Follow.”

Ash grabbed it, followed Harry. Harry realized why Oliver Wood asked for help, reminded him of that first time he flew, it came natural to him but a foreign skill to most others. Ron, though, had already flown a bit owing to his older brothers. Harry led Ash to the other end of the Quidditch Pitch, turned around.

“Relax,” Harry said to Ash, “You’re here. Let’s learn to fly, just need to get the hang of it. Can you talk?”

“Yeah,” Ash said softly, he trembled, blushed.

Harry’s eyes flickered to the crotch of the boy, the rapidly darkening spot followed by a trickle of him pissing his trousers. Harry figured drawing attention to this would be the wrong thing to do. harry drew his wand, immediately realized that he had neglected to zip up his top, which explained the cold as he aimed the wand at Ash.

“ _Virtutis_!” Harry said, “It means courage.” He knew his magic, emitted a few sparks, along with a discrete cleaning charm. “Gryffindor courage, that’s what you have.” Harry figured he’d need it too if the loose robes gave the slip.

Ash glanced at the wood support to the stands.

“TERMITES!” Ash yelled, “TERMITES!”

Ash ran. Harry flicked his wand, his Firebolt came screaming across the field, and Harry jumped on. He stashed his wand, aimed the broom to go right beneath Ash’s posterior, swooping down. Harry’s arms went around Ash’s torso as the handle flew under Ash, forcing Ash to be right in front of Harry. Harry’s hands gripped the handle in front of Ash, pulled up.

“Hold on!” Harry said.

Ash’s hands roamed backward, seeking something to hold onto, slipped beneath the open chest of Harry’s Quidditch robes. Both hands seemed to reach for the handle, but instead, latched onto the thing hovering inches above it, Ash grabbed Harry’s hard cock.

“Um…um…” Ash muttered.

“It’s alright,” Harry said, “Here.”

Harry made a couple laps of the Quidditch Pitch, staying a dozen feet above the ground, before he came back down to the Shooting Star in the grass of the field.

“Sorry,” Ash said as soon as his hands found the real handle below Harry’s stiff dick.

“Think it startled me too,” Harry said, “Don’t fret.”

“It felt like my frog, Kermit,” Ash said.

Harry blushed for a moment.

“Think you can fly now?” Harry asked, regaining composure, “Willing to give it a go?”

“Yeah,” Ash replied, “Though it won’t work.”

“Courage, remember Gryffindor courage,” Harry said, “Command the broom to come up.”

“Up,” Ash muttered.

The broom turned over.

“Again,” Harry said.

“Up!” Ash said, this time, the broom hovered halfway up.

“Be confident,” Harry said, “It works for _you_.”

“UP!” Ash exclaimed; the broom rose gradually up to the hand.

“Now, get onto it like so,” Harry said, demonstrating, “And hold the handle.”

Ash trembled, did this, but he began to rise. Ash tumbled, held by his hands to the broom as he rose above the stands.

“TERMITES!” Ash yelled.

Harry, meanwhile, bolted upward, flew fast, grabbed Ash around the waist; Ash let the broom go.

“Let’s get it,” Harry said, as Ash scrambled to sit on Harry’s broom handle, behind Harry.

Ash reached around Harry’s waist, the hands moved beneath Harry’s robes to reach the hard erection, held on. Harry made an easy chase of the Shooting Star , grabbed on, and they returned to the ground.

“Sorry,” Ash said, “I know it’s not Kermit.”

“Try again?” Harry said, “This time—hold onto me and we’ll fly together, side by side, alright?”

Harry put the Firebolt between his legs, gripped the handle. Ash’s left hand reached over, it slipped beneath Harry’s robes as he had before, held onto Harry’s hard cock. Harry did a slow walk, Ash pushed, and Harry rose with him.

“Lets keep it easy, nice and low,” Harry said.

Harry felt a bit awkward, this boy holding the hard erection, the fingers that were feeling as they flew, tracing the ridge beneath, feeling the foreskin. They flew; six feet off the air, but Ash flew.

“Nervous?” Harry asked.

Ash nodded.

“Sorry about the hand,” Ash said.

“Is it helping?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Ash said, “If I thought to bring Kermit to class, I’d use him.”

“I like you,” Harry said.

“Ta,” Ash said.

They made a lap of the Quidditch Pitch, came to land. Ash let go of Harry’s dick. Oliver Wood came over.

“Harry, there’s more than one student in this class,” Oliver Wood said.

“Ash needs practice, but he’ll fly,” Harry said.

“You used all of the lesson for just one,” Oliver Wood said.

“Sorry,” Harry said, “I sorted him out and guess I’ll have to help for the next one, tomorrow, right?”

“That remains to be seen,” Oliver Wood said.

“I’m sorry!” Harry said, catching up with Oliver Wood returning to the students.

“Class dismissed!” Oliver Wood announced.

“I don’t understand,” Harry said.

Oliver Wood stood there until the last of the others walked away. Oliver focused on Harry, bare chest exposed, studied him.

“I’m sorry about having to be harsh,” Oliver Wood said, “I had fifty two students, I was hoping you could handle half of them.”

“Sorry,” Harry said, “Ash was too shy, he wouldn’t even talk.”

“Not uncommon among first years,” Oliver Wood said.

“Do we let one suffer who can use my help?” Harry said, “Sounds like something Professor Snape would do.”

“Hey!” Oliver Wood said, “You’ve mastered the OWLs because teachers were willing to teach. You’re headed for NEWTs, being able to teach is something you ought to learn too.”

“Sorry, didn’t think of that,” Harry said.

“I asked Professor McGonagall for an assistant, you, because it’s fifty two students,” Oliver Wood said, “I’m inexperienced too, so I was able to get you. If you’re going to do one on one, then I need fifty two assistants, and that’s not going to fly.”

“Ash really needed it,” Harry replied.

“I know,” Oliver Wood said, “If you find somebody who needs one on one, talk to me so I can make arrangements. Understood?”

“Yes,” Harry said.

Ron approached the Pitch, dressed in his robes. Others were following.

“And you decided to go for the risque outfit,” Oliver Wood said, hinting to the chest.

“I overlooked a step,” Harry said, “Too late by the time I got here.”

“Bloody hell,” Ron said, “Harry’s got the wrong outfit, supposed to be skin.”

“You’d like me flying naked?” Harry asked.

“Of course,” Ron said, “You’d look gorgeous.”

“Well,” Oliver Wood said, taking the heat away from Harry, “Officially I have to tell you that this is _your_ game, though I’ll answer any questions that you may have. However, I’m required to stay neutral.”

Ron came over, hugged Harry tightly, kissed him on the lips.

“Just a moment, Ron,” Harry said, pushing Ron back, “Got something McGonagall wanted me to give you.”

Harry rummaged in the pocket of his Quidditch robes, pulled out a badge, handed it to Ron.

“Captain?!” Ron asked, snatching it from Harry, a grin came to the face. “W–Why? How?”

“You’re simply the best for Quidditch Captain,” Harry said.

“Harry?” Oliver Wood asked.

“He is,” Harry said.

“I need to discuss this with Professor McGonagall,” Oliver Wood said as he turned around, he left.

“Feels like charity,” Ron muttered.

“Congratulations,” said Josh Brenner, a seventh year Gryffindor who was on the last year’s team.

“Just say ‘Thank You’ and be happy,” Harry said to Ron.

Ron fixed the pin to the lapel of his robes, before he moved in to hug Harry, again.

“New uniform, for you,” Ron said, reaching for the shoulders of Harry’s robes, “Skin.” Ron pulled the shoulders, letting Harry’s robes fall to the ground. Harry’s lack of underwear became readily apparent, he was naked, except for his shoes, his erection still strong.

“So, we’re just going to use body paint?” Harry asked, as a pair of first years took his robes.

“Good idea!” Ron said.

Ron nearly tackled Harry, brought him to the grass, rolled on top of him. Ron felt the nearly retracted scrotum.

“Been out here a while already?” Ron asked.

Colin had his camera out.

Click!

Ron rolled to his side, his hand held Harry’s hard cock, posed it from Colin’s camera.

Click!

“I came to play Quidditch,” Ginny said, “Not see my brother make out!”

“Ron, cut it out,” Harry said, “It’s that stupid perfume doing it!”

“Oh, yeah,” Ron said, standing up, “That.”

Harry stood up. He looked around for his robes, saw them, as the First Years had taken to setting it on fire. A quick thought, Harry extended his hand, his wand flew out of the robes, escaping the inferno, came to his hand. Harry stashed his wand into the bristles of his broom.

“Rotten luck,” Ron said, seeing the fire.

“You stripped me!” Harry snapped.

“Oh, yeah, you look good,” Ron said to Harry, “Do a bit of flying, take a dump, and it’s a new Bludger.”

“No!” Harry retorted.

“Is this the new uniform?” asked Justin Prewett, coming onto the Pitch, pointing toward Harry.

“He’s trying it out,” Ron said.

“I’ll still be the deputy Captain,” Harry said, “Alright?”

“Yeah,” Ron said.

Harry kicked off his socks and shoes, figured there wasn’t a point to them; though it was cold, the grass on his feet felt better. He briefly considered flying back to the castle, to get something else to wear, but he didn’t want to cut down on their time on the Pitch; thus, he decided to suck it up and stick to the skin. It’s not like Harry was a stranger to being naked, he enjoyed it, especially when they otherwise acted normal, like over the summer.

“Okay,” Harry said, “Since Oliver Wood left them out, everybody grab a Shooting Star .“

Colin took a picture of Harry before he grabbed a broom.

“I’ll use my Cleansweep—” Ginny started.

“No, use a Shooting Star ,“ Harry said.

“Cruel, cruel, Harry—” Ron said.

“Talent,” Harry replied.

“And I run the show,” Ron said, pointing to his Captain badge.

“I need a notebook,” Harry said, “I’ll write everybody’s name down!”

Ron reached into his bookbag.

“Yep, Hermione left it,” Ron said.

Ron handed Harry a spiral notebook, hearts printed on every sheet, and a pen. Ginny was first.

“G..i..n..e..r..v..a..” Ginny said, talking as slow as she could, her hands felt Harry’s hard erection, “W..e..a..s..l..e..y..”

“I know who you are,” Harry said, “And cut that out!” Harry pulled back, yanking his cock out of Ginny’s hands.

Colin came up next. His hands moved the camera, point blank range to the cock, an inch away from Harry’s slit when the flash went off.

“Excuse me?” Harry stuttered.

“You know, pictures,” Colin said. Colin moved the camera faster than Harry could respond, took fast pictures to both sides, above, and below, the hard erection.

“Shove it!” Harry snapped.

“Ginny loves it,” Colin said.

“I know!” Harry said, “Were you going to sign up?”

“Yes, Colin Creevy,” Colin said.

One by one, Harry recorded the names, each person taking a closer look at the genitals, with the thick wild black pubic hair, and the balls that had pulled as tightly to the body as possible.

“Okay, I want to see you all fly!” Ron said.

One by one, the others mounted.

“And Harry, fly behind them so I pay attention!” Ron said.

Harry mounted his Firebolt, flew upward. Ron’s eyes made no secret, kept glancing at Harry as Ron clearly struggled to fight the effects of that powder of the morning.

“Wish I had my Comet,” Justin Prewett said.

“Come on, flying,” Ron said, “From that end—” he pointed at the east goals “—to the other—” pointed to the west ones “—race. Everybody line up.”

They all flew to the east goals; while Ron went to the west.

“GO!” Ron shouted.

Harry flew with the group, out stripped them all, as his Firebolt flew faster.

“You should’ve used a Shooting Star yourself,” Ron said to Harry.

“Alright, extra credit,” Harry said, flying close to Ron.

Ron’s eyes traced Harry’s creases in the front abdomen down to the pubic hair, the hard erection still jutting outward along the broom handle.

“Okay, extra points,” Ron said, “Get your balls—I meant the Quidditch ones.”

Harry flew down to beneath the stand.

“There are most definitely termites in there,” Ash said, standing nearby. Ash was in a more casual sweater than earlier.

Harry grabbed the box, pulled it out.

“The Flying lessons is over for you,” Harry said.

“Curious,” Ash replied, “Still, stay away from the termites.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Harry said.

“Your penis, it’s so big,” Ash said.

“It’s a stiffy,” Harry said, pointing.

“I know, it’s…never seen one like that before,” Ash said, eyes on Harry’s foreskin covered penis, “No wonder I confused it for your broom handle.”

Took Harry a moment.

“Yours will get like this too,” Harry said.

Ash reached, felt the foreskin.

“Definitely not a frog,” Ash said.

“Thank you for that assessment,” Harry said.

“Sorry for grabbing it earlier,” Ash said.

“Did it help you fly?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Ash said.

“Then don’t worry about it,” Harry said, figuring it was better to simply drop the matter.

Harry carried the box back into the middle of the pitch, opened it. All the practice balls were there, numerous Quaffles, along with restrained bludgers and snitches.

“Everybody, warm up!” Ron announced.

Harry stood there for a few moments, watched the others come down and depart with Quaffles. They got tossed back and forth when he felt the hands. Hands that reached around Harry, held his scrotum; the breath was distinctive.

“Ron!” Harry said.

“These things are freezing,” Ron said, his hands vigorously rubbing against Harry’s testicles, “Lemme warm them up.”

Harry couldn’t argue with the logic, his balls were cold, and it felt good to have the warmth seep back into them, the sack loosened to let them down.

“The team,” Harry reminded Ron.

“Of course,” Ron said, letting go.

“How long is this thing supposed to last?” Harry asked.

“Dunno,” Ron said, “A day or two is Hermione’s guess.”

“Next time, avoid packages,” Harry said.

Ron nodded.

“Pay attention!” Josh Brenner snapped at Ron.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ron said.

Harry mounted his Firebolt, flew up, and kept pace between the different potential players. Harry wondered a bit, his erection still firm, he had expected it to soften, but his todger liked to keep the embarrassment factor to an eleven, so he accepted it laying against the handle, grateful for the Cushioning Charm that kept it from rubbing. His testicles retreated again, cleared the way off of the handle.

Ron kept watching it all, taking notes, despite the occasional glances at Harry. Harry kept flying, assisting, as Bludgers flew, and Quaffles soared. Eventually, the sun dipped below the horizon. A whistle blew, as Oliver Wood came back marching across the field.

“We need more time,” Ron said.

“Need tomorrow?” Oliver Wood said, “It’s just a house team, you can always have pickup games.”

“Alright,” Ron said, “I’ll have to mull these over.”

“And you—” Oliver Wood pointed to Harry, “Yes, you!”

Harry flew down, the eyes observing Harry’s natural state.

“Accident, but the game must go on,” Harry said.

“Next time, send for a replacement!” Oliver Wood said.

“I was waiting for it to get dark,” Harry said.

“Get inside!” Oliver Wood said, “I’ll see to a replacement set as you’ve likely outgrown the old ones anyways.”

Harry flew over to Ash.

“Shouldn’t be out here after dark either,” Harry said, “Get on.”

Ash’s eyes lit up, sat on the back behind Harry. Again, Ash’s hands clamped onto Harry’s hard erection.

“Sorry,” Ash muttered, but the grip held tighter as Harry began to fly.

“Lucky,” Ron said from the grown toward Ash.

Harry found himself not caring that this boy was holding the hard cock; if holding the dick gave the boy the confidence to fly, Harry wasn’t going to knock it, instead, Harry decided to embrace it. His penis was sensitive enough to pick up the tremors in the boy’s grip, felt as the boy was trying to work through his anxieties as Harry flew.

“Spooky,” Ash said as they flew above the Quidditch Pitch.

Harry pointed the broom handle down, they began to pickup speed.

“Whoa—whoa!” Ash began to scream, squeezing down tight.

Harry flew past the Whomping Willow, before heading over the lake.

“Shit!” Ash exclaimed.

Harry felt the tremors in his cock being stimulated by the tremors in Ash’s hands. He made a beeline for Gryffindor Tower, for the window, and they flew in. Harry landed. Harry had to sooth his mind, relax it, and managed to stifle the quiver during the extra moment it took Ash to release the grip on Harry’s hard dick. Harry turned around.

“Like flying?” Harry asked.

“Yep,” Ash said, “And sorry for holding your todger.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry said, “You’ll get the hang of flying soon enough.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ash said.

Harry held the door open as Ash left the dormitory.

* * *

Ron and Josh Brenner entered a moment later.

“Of course you took the fast way,” Ron said, pulling his Quidditch Robes off, stripped down to his red and white checkered boxers.

“I was naked,” Harry said, “Surprisingly enough, hardly anybody pays attention out of their window, but stroll through the castle and I’ll run into Colin’s camera around every corner.”

“A causal meeting?” Josh Brenner asked, glancing at Harry still naked.

“I sleep like this,” Harry said, “Figured that’s next.”

“Which I’d like to get a start on,” Seamus said, entering the dormitory, “I sleep here too.”

“We need to debate this!” Harry said. He grabbed a dungbomb from his trunk, aiming his wand at it.

“Fine, fine!” Seamus said before his left, “See if the girls would have me.”

“Good idea,” Ron said, moving to stand next to Harry, played with the bulge in his boxers, pulled his soft dick out as it began to stiffen, “Maybe let everybody on the team, skip the meeting.”

“Do you two need to be alone?” Josh asked.

“Lets get this over with,” Harry said, sitting on the end of his four poster.

Ron sat on the floor, his eyesight toward Harry’s genitals, and he pulled out the notebook.

“As I see it, we need to pick four from the thirty one who showed up,” Josh said, “Should I leave this to you two?”

“You’re part of the team which means you get a say,” Harry said.

“Looks like we have two captains,” Josh Brenner said.

“Ron’s captain,” Harry said, “We just know each other well.”

“In more ways than one,” Josh Brenner stated.

“We’ve got Slytherin in eight weeks,” Ron said, “We gotta be good by then.”

Ron flipped the pages.

“Quidditch really turns you on,” Josh Brenner said to Ron.

“So does Harry,” Ron said, “I know, I know, somebody gave me a gag gift this morning, makes me super attracted to him until it wears off.”

“Sorry, didn’t realize that,” Josh Brenner said.

“I suspect it’s Ginny, its the sort of thing she’d do,” Ron said, “Obviously with help from Fred or George. Still, apart from me thrusting myself onto Harry, it’s harmless, and I’ll take it in stride.”

“We’re friends and we’ve had bad days before,” Harry said, “I’ll survive too.”

“What did Madam Pomfrey say?” Josh Brenner asked.

“Didn’t ask her,” Ron said, “Seemed easier to let it run its course than to spend the day with her.”

“Lets get moving,” Harry said, not mentioning that he’d rather be with Gia, pointed to a couple of names, “These two didn’t fly well, maybe next year?”

“Picked up on that?” Ron said, “Josh?”

“Agreed,” Brenner said, “They’re good for cheerleaders, but not players.”

The three took the matter more serious than a Potions final, selecting, weeding down the list. At twenty minutes, they had it down to seven, and the curfew warning sounded when they had it down to five, three solids and two they were wavering between.

“It’s MacDonald or Creevy,” Josh Brenner said.

“Maybe a reserve?” Harry said, “I mean, what if somebody gets sick or something.”

“Good idea, we’ll train them up,” Ron said, “Lets write this down.”

Ron took an empty page and wrote the list.

“One benefit to being reserve is that Creevy always seems to have camera,” Josh Brenner said, “We could use some good pictures.”

“Good?” Ron asked as he held up the list.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“Yes,” Josh Brenner said.

“Well, see ya tomorrow Harry,” Ron said, heading for the door, “Coming?”

“Just your pants?” Josh Brenner asked.

“Good point,” Ron said, bringing his soft penis back into his boxers.”

Ron grabbed the captain’s pin, moved it to his boxers, and left the dormitory; Josh followed. Harry grabbed his wand, his PortKey, and activated it.

* * *

Ron’s red and white checkered boxers flexed with his legs as he came down the stairs into the Gryffindor common room. He blushed as all the eyes went onto him as he pinned the list to the bulletin board.

Ronald Weasley | Captain & Keeper  
---|---  
Harry Potter | Seeker  
Josh Brenner | Chaser  
Ginny Weasley | Chaser  
Natalie MacDonald | Chaser  
Colin Creevy | Reserve Chaser  
Justin Prewett | Beater  
Paul Prewett | Beater  
  
“As you can see, we have eight!” Ron said.

Mutterings came around.

“There was a lot of interest,” Ron said, “And it’s good to have a reserve, congratulations. Practice starts tomorrow.”

“Ron,” Hermione said, coming up to him.

A couple of cat calls came as Hermione touched Ron’s boxers, her hands delved into the front flap, unbuttoning as she moved close.

“Can we—up there?” Ron pointed.

Ron let his todger hang free as Hermione followed him up the the steps.

“You’re the captain?” Hermione asked.

“Yep,” Ron said, “Captain of the house team.”

Ron dropped his boxers as he entered the dormitory, removed the captain pin from the boxers, affixed it back to his Quidditch robes laying on his trunk.

“I like the new uniform,” Hermione said, giving a couple of light slaps to Ron’s buttocks.

“This _isn’t_ the uniform,” Ron said, turning around.

“Sure it could be,” Hermione said, leaning into Ron, “A bit of body paint and todgers wouldn’t stand out too much. Gryffindor red, and it’ll be a match people would pay attention to.”

“You mean you want to see me—heh,” Ron said, laughing for a moment, “Doubt McGonagall would agree.”

“I think I’ll have to re–read the rules,” Hermione said, “See if the captain has final say to the uniform.”

“I doubt that,” Ron said, “Nice thought though—maybe find a more secluded spot, perform for you?”

“I’d…I’d like that,” Hermione said.

Ron sat on his four poster, watched as she began to strip.

“Gotta admit, I’m thinking Harry right now,” Ron said.

“You’ll get over it,” Hermione said, “Don’t mind giving you a bit of therapy, Captain.”

“You’d like that,” Ron said, “Nice of Professor McGonagall to—”

“Hang on,” Hermione said, reaching for a letter on Harry’s small desk, read it. Ron stood, read over the shoulder.

Dear Mr. Potter,

You are hereby selected to be the captain for Gryffindor House’s Quidditch Team for the following school year. Enclosed is a pin, a symbol of your authority.

Good luck and bring glory to our house.

Sincerely, Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House

“And more damn—OWW!” Ron jumped back as his toe had hit Harry’s trunk.

Hermione spun around, her finger pointed at Ron.

“No wonder you’re still poor!” Hermione said, “You wouldn’t know what to do with a treasure—you’ve got the most precious of treasures, a true friend, and you’re pissing on him! You’ve got friends, friends who want you to be happy, and you have family, a real family, with parents and siblings. Count your blessings Ronald Bilius Weasley! Count your blessings!”

Ron stayed quiet, but trembled a bit.

“Let him win!” Hermione said, “You will both be richer for it, far richer than Malfoy ever could be.”

“Hermione…” Ron started.

She looked him over, the brown eyes studied every square inch, including the soft todger hanging there.

“Heard a rumor that Malfoy’s paying good money—not nearly as good as what you have,” Hermione said, “And he has to pay a fortune to use it—count your blessings.”

“It’s hard for me,” Ron said, “Mum and Dad always proud they were making it, on their own. Fred and George are doing it too. It’s not easy taking a hand–out, taking charity, because it’s insulting, it’s a judgment that I’m not fit!”

“You are fit, that’s why he gave it to you,” Hermione said, “He had to of asked Professor McGonagall—so that’s what he was talking to her about at the end of the lesson! She wouldn’t have agreed if you weren’t capable. Pay Harry back, be the best captain you can be. Thank him—”

“Good idea,” Ron said.

“Just remember he wanted you to be happy,” Hermione said, “He could’ve just as easily kept the position, shown you the letter, and had no arguments. Instead, Harry gave it to you. Think on that.”

“I will,” Ron said.

Ron grabbed his Portkey.

“What?” Hermione asked.

“One favor deserves another,” Ron said, “Be back shortly.”

Ron activated his Portkey.

* * *

Harry finished explaining about the package, Ron’s behavior, to Gia as they laid on the bed. His dick had softened for a break, but was already back to a full erection. Light from the candle on the bookshelf gave a flicker of light.

“So, Ron’s got the hots for you?” Gia asked.

“Yep,” Harry said.

Ron appeared as he landed; naked with the pin and wand in hand.

“Hello?” Gia asked.

“I found the letter, the one assigning you as Captain,” Ron said.

“Look, I’ve got fame and glory already! Which includes a fucking gift store!” Harry said, “I don’t want those, but you do; and you know Quidditch way better than I do!”

“Is this—did you go through with it?” Gia asked.

“As I talked about,” Harry said.

“I’m trying to accept it,” Ron said, “Figured I ought to thank you personally.”

“You’re welcome,” Harry said.

“Too shallow,” Ron said.

Ron knelt on the edge of the bed, his dick stiffened as he began to play with Harry’s cock.

“What?” Harry stammered.

“I’m _so_ watching this,” Gia said, moving back enough to give Ron full access to Harry.

Ron climbed onto the bed, laid down, began to kiss Harry.

“You’re under the influence,” Harry said.

“Such a great idea though, why ignore it?” Ron said, “Besides, need to thank you properly for Quidditch Captain.”

Harry wasn’t certain to the best course of action, except to play along with it. Ron had taken his advances before, when Harry was too inebriated to sleep safely with Gia. Harry reasoned he should take it, maybe this was the best way to get the curse out of Ron.

“I love you,” Ron said.

Ron’s hard cock touched Harry’s, Ron leaned down, put their lips together. Ron’s tongue began to explore inside, played with Harry’s tongue. Ron held their testicles together.

“What the—?” Richard asked as he entered the bedroom, blue boxers on, eyes on Harry and Ron.

“Truth or dare,” Gia said, “They lost.”

Harry appreciated the cover up, but getting shagged by Ron wasn’t on his priority list for the day.

“I’ll say,” Richard said.

“Stay if you want a turn,” Gia said.

“No thanks,” Richard said, “It can wait until morning.”

Richard left.

While Harry appreciated Gia’s cover up, and getting Richard to not witness this, getting shagged by Ron wasn’t on Harry’s bucket list.

“I love you,” Ron said, “Really, I do.’

Ron turned around, let his erection hang just above Harry’s eyes. Ron grabbed a comb, worked out the knots in Harry’s pubic hair.

“Keep this up,” Gia said, making no secret of her fingers massaging her clitoris.

Harry’s penis decided it enjoyed the attention, and Harry couldn’t stop his erection. Harry’s golden jet pushed upward, he peed.

“Yum,” Ron said, moving his mouth to catch the stream, his tongue began to lap at it.

Harry’s dick felt more at ease than he did, kept pissing a rich deep yellow. Pugnant, it overcame the musk that could be smelled from Ron’s balls hanging above Harry’s head. As revolting as Harry thought he should be, it became enticing, his dick stayed overjoyed as he kept pissing. For a moment, Gia breathed deeply.

“Keep going,” Gia muttered.

“You like it,” Harry said to her.

“Nice bitter,” Ron said, misinterpreting, “So, yes, it’s wonderful bitter of Harry.”

Ron licked the tip, cleaned to remove the last of the urine, and his tongue explored Harry’s foreskin. Ron’s tongue kept exploring, tossing the balls, as the tongue worked around the hard cock, though he eased back every time Harry started to feel a twitch.

“Don’t let it go fast,” Gia said to Ron.

What spooked Harry the most is he enjoyed it, the attention Ron was giving. They had done a bit over the summer, but this was more devoted, more serious, less just for the other, and more for selfish reasons.

Ron’s tongue moved around, along the ridge of the shaft, to the scrotum. Ron moved forward, pulled Harry’s legs to the chest as he brought his own scrotum to right in front of Harry’s eyes. Every strand of hair, including a mole, Harry could make out on the sack with two distinct lumps. Ron’s chin bumped against Harry’s pouch when Harry felt the wet mass touch his buttocks; Ron began to wipe.

“Excuse me—” Harry griped.

“I know, you didn’t wipe properly last time,” Ron said, “Don’t fret.”

“I wasn’t planning—” Harry started.

“Let him do as he does,” Gia said.

Harry knew it wasn’t a sponge that was touching his arse, it was Ron’s tongue as he was cleaning, licking. Harry’s dick twitched, a quick, dry orgasm, as Ron’s tongue probed further; Harry knew his dick was one touch away from showing its endorsement.

“Ready?” Ron asked.

“For what?” Harry replied.

Ron didn’t answer, instead moved, knelt near Harry’s butt, kept Harry’s legs bent forward, and Ron lifted Harry’s buttocks. It became clear to Harry that Ron was intent on finishing what he had started back at lunch when the hard shaft, Ron’s hard and wide shaft, pushed into Harry’s anus. Ron held Harry’s testicles, leaned forward.

“I love you,” Ron said as he flexed his hips, the dick up Harry’s arse moved.

“Look at the bright side, don’t need to worry about birth control,” Gia said.

“There are Potions Harry to let you get pregnant,” Ron said, “Want one?”

“No!” Harry said.

“Mum threatened Dad once with one,” Ron said, “Dad pointed out those aren’t legal.”

Ron kept flexing, kept drilling. His hands moved to massaging Harry’s pouch, the hard erection. Harry felt the quivers start and Ron pulled out.

“And…” Ron said.

Gia and Ron watched, Harry watched his own cock, as the surge rushed out. It felt stronger than he had ever felt before, the creamy white liquid pulsed out, a strong trail of semen strung itself across Harry’s chest, more pulses shot out, draining the love spuds resting in their pouch. Harry paused, relaxed as the tremors of relief coursed through his body. Still dribbling and oozing, his hard cock began to droop, to soften.

“More?” Gia asked as Ron let Harry’s legs down.

Ron moved forward, straddled Harry, and gripped his own erection. Ron vigorously stroked; Ron’s canon fired less than ten seconds later. Harry saw the squirts sail, onto to join his own sticky mess. Ron immediately began to mix the two together, his and Harry’s semen became a single mess, and Ron’s fingers began to paint Harry’s skin with it.

“Satisfied?” Harry asked.

“Thank you for giving me the position,” Ron said, yawning deeply.

Ron didn’t get a chance to finish his painting, instead, he fell forward, collapsed onto Harry, began to snore. Gia blew out the candle, crawled into bed, pulled the cover over her, Harry, and Ron.

* * *

Tuesday morning, Harry and Richard stopped just outside 26 Oak, leaned over, waited for their dicks to stop dribbling; sweat dripping down their skin.

“So, you said you were going another run?” Harry asked.

“No, Saturday,” Richard said, “In London, figured you might be interested, starts at the Globe Theater. I plan be there by seven or so.”

“Ron likely wants to get some practice in,” Harry said.

“Suit yourself,” Richard said.

Together, Harry and Richard entered the house.

“Didn’t think you were serious about the running,” Ron said as Harry entered Gia’s bedroom.

“Got everything?” Harry asked.

Harry grabbed his Portkey and wand, activated; Ron held on. They landed naked on Harry’s four poster bed.

“So I actually did that?” Ron asked.

“Yes, you licked my ass and fucked it!” Harry exclaimed.

“Sorry,” Ron said.

They went into the shower, taking adjacent stalls.

“Though gotta admin, that orgasm you gave me…” Harry said, sudsing up his hair with shampoo, “Hard to describe.”

“Really?” Ron asked, soaping up his washcloth.

“It’s like my balls exploded everything out and it felt…” Harry said, “Everything on, one heck of a good…it was great. Can you teach Gia?”

“You’re welcome,” Ron said, “Just next time, wash your butt first.”

“Like you warned me,” Harry said, “Gia’s never really interested there.”

Flash! Click!

“Blimey!” Harry yelled.

Colin was standing there, camera in his hands, aimed at Harry and Ron. Colin was smiling.

“Not what it seems!” Colin said, stepping backward, fast.

Soapy and wet, Harry bolted first, Ron behind, chased Colin. Colin took the steps back and fell, rolling down the stairs. Colin fell faster than Harry could fly down the stairs. At the bottom, Colin stepped to the side, steadied his camera, but stuck his foot back out. Soap on Harry’s right foot caused him to slip, Harry tripped over Colin’s foot. Harry tumbled, collided; Ron fell; as both of them crashed into Hermione.

Flash! Click!

Colin’s camera repeatedly flashed, taking pictures as fast as the film could handle.

“Ow,” Hermione muttered.

Harry was naked and directly on top of Hermione; Ron laid on Harry’s backside.

Flash! Click!

Applause came from around the room. Ron stood up first, glared at Ginny. Harry pointed as he stood, his glare directed at Colin.

“Cut that out!” Harry demanded.

Colin’s hands moved fast, rescued his dropped camera.

“See Harry’s butt?” Ginny asked.

Harry reached down, lent Hermione a hand, she used it to pull herself up. He glanced at her shirt, the water that was on him was pushed against her breasts, which showed the lack of a brassiere beneath, the nipples were pronounced. Colin’s finger returned to pressing the button on his camera.

Flash! Click!

“What…?” Harry started to ask Hermione, however, realized his exposure in the common room. His soapy todger was faster, stiffening under the watchful eye of Colin’s camera taking even more pictures.

Catcalls, laughter, chased Harry back up the stairs. Ron and Hermione followed Harry back up the stairs.

“Blimey!” Harry complained as he entered his dormitory, “I’d like to have a shower in _peace_!”

Harry went into the shower. Hermione fidgeted in her clothes, her hands constantly readjusted.

“Um, you okay?” Ron said, “Looks like you got the wrong size.”

“Shouldn’t be,” Hermione said as her shirt got tighter and tighter, “Think these got cursed.”

RIP!

Seams began to split, tear open as the shirt shrunk, reduced itself to shards of vanishing fabric. Her brassiere shrunk as well, popping the buttons.

“Wait until I finish,” Ron said, went for the shower, “We’ll sneak back over and get you something.”

Hermione followed, all her clothes had fallen off, leaving her naked.

“You’d fit,” Ron said.

“I already took my shower,” Hermione said, “Look, I went through my entire trunk, those were the only thing to fit, everything else was either way too small or too big.”

“Somebody tampered with it?” Ron said.

“Tell me you both know _nothing_ of this!” Hermione said.

“Who’d you take me for?” Ron asked.

“Somebody who’d love to see my wardrobe fall apart in the middle of the day,” Hermione said.

“Hermione, we’d save that for the evenings,” Harry said, rinsing before turning around, “Given Ron’s package yesterday, any chance it’s related?”

“Possible,” Hermione said.

Harry turned off the water, grabbed a large fluffy white towel, dried himself as he stepped out.

“You can borrow something of mine,” Harry said, “If there’s something else, make a list and I’ll fly to your parents’ tonight.”

“Might look less tacky to borrow mine,” Ron said, “You know, instead of explaining why your clothes are marked Harry Potter.”

Ron came out, rummaged his trunk, threw a dress shirt and jumper at her. Harry lent her a spare pair of trousers. They quickly dressed, and went back the stairs, inot the common room, where the entire room filled up with pink ribbons fluttering down; everybody else had apparently already left.

“Any guesses?” Hermione said.

Cards, many cards attached to small pink balloons, came floating down, each one had Adam, Eve, and Steve , written on it.

Harry groaned, and they left the common room.

* * *

Harry, Ron, and Hermione returned to the castle after Care of Magical Creatures. Groups of other students kept their distance, giggled or laughed as they glanced at the three.

“Any guesses?” Ron asked.

“Think I can get it with one,” Harry said, “Malfoy stayed strangely quiet.”

“I’m glad I didn’t have to listen to that stupid git,” Ron said.

“It’s the rumors,” Hermione said, “With them, Malfoy doesn’t need to bother creating anything, we’ve heard it all.”

They entered the castle, went to the Great Hall, and sat at the table. Hermione took delivery of The Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly , while Ron helped himself to quite a few sandwiches including a few grilled cheese on tuna salad. Ron flipped open Witch Weekly .

“Well, if you want to remember the shower this morning,” Ron said, spreading the magazine open. Glossy pictures of Harry and Ron were on several pages.

“I’m guessing Colin got his pictures developed,” Harry said, “I took a shower, like I always do. How the bloody hell is that _news_?”

“A little bug has the juicy,” Hermione said, “Not the front page, mind you, more toward the back.”

Tuesday, 10 September, 1996

The Daily Prophet

A Boy’s True Wish

Rita Skeeter

Salacious sources reveal that Harry Potter, the thirteen year old Boy–Who–Lived, is exploring his confused sexual identity at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry , which remains cloudy to those nearest to him. Mr. Potter has been caught on numerous occasions soliciting unflattering favors from his fellow classmates. Boys are not safe as Mr. Potter has been observed in acts of sodomy that would make his deceased mother less than proud if she were to learn of the truth. Yours truly advises Hogwarts to educate Harry Potter on the facts of life, including the primary truth that a wizard ought to be interested in witches, and to pick one, just one, to dedicate his life to.

“So, you didn’t even tell your best mate you’re sleeping around?” Ron said to Harry, “Next time, invite me along.”

“Ron!” Hermione said.

“I was only joking,” Ron said.

“Well, they seem to have gotten your better said,” Harry said, flipping through the Witch Weekly , “Should ask around to share a bath with a few others, you know, change of scenery.”

Pink ribbons fluttered down from the ceiling, right over Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

“Can we start a rumor?” Harry said, “Something a bit naughtier to get them to think of something else?”

“Sure, piss in the food,” Ron said, “Your favorite thing.”

“Not us, somebody like, say, Slytherin,” Harry said, “Their favourite drink.”

“Strong drink,” Ron said.

“It’d work, wouldn’t it?” Harry asked.

“Too out of there,” Hermione said, “I’ll have work something out during your practice.”

* * *

After that afternoon’s Transfiguration, Hermione went for the library while Harry and Ron headed for Gryffindor Tower.

“First day of practice!” Ron shouted.

Harry and Ron climbed the stairs to the third floor, went along the corridor toward the next flight of stairs.

“Got a strategy?” Harry asked.

Faint footsteps echoed underneath their own, they turned down the long corridor that was lined with suits of armor on both sides.

“Have to watch the interaction,” Ron said.

“Teamwork is—” Harry stopped, glanced at one of the suits. “—sup…”

Quidditch left their minds, replaced by the sudden realization that the armor was moving, relocated and were moving to sandwich Harry and Ron between two intersecting fronts. An assortment of all the blades began to hurl toward them.

“Duck!” Harry shouted as he shoved Ron down toward the floor, out of the path of the oncoming metal hail.

Harry began to lunge downward himself, but the first of the daggers punctured and tore into his shoulder. A quick glow of light shimmered across him, levitating, thwarting his fast drop, leaving him in the way as the deadly instruments went to work. An axe bit into Harry’s left bicep, a morning star tattooed itself into his buttocks, a pole arm burrowed through his chest and lung, and a sword hurled itself at his neck.

“Harry!” Ron yelled.

Harry bled profusely as his ragdoll body hit the floor with a sickly thud, he laid motionless in the gathering pool of blood.


	19. Birds and Bees

Ron could barely watch from beneath a suit of armor as the rest of the armor pressed their attack against Harry, the blood painted the floor, the weapons kept up their vengeance. A long bladed scimitar missed Harry, went across Ron’s thigh, tore at the fabric, bit slightly into the flesh.

“ _REDUCTO_!” A flash of light came from the wand of Professor Lupin, rushing toward them. Magic struck, obliterated the sword about to impale again onto Harry. A second curse sent the other weapons to the floor with a loud reverberating clang. A third curse conjured a stretcher in the floor beneath Harry’s crumpled and broken body, lifting him up. Another curse banished Harry and the stretcher, propelling them fast down the corridor, out of sight, toward the Hospital Wing.

“Blimey!” Professor Lupin ran, grabbed Ron’s bicep, pulled him up, and conjured a bandage around Ron’s cut leg. “What the bloody hell—?”

“Fucking attacked!” Ron said.

With Ron’s first two steps in his dash, he stepped into the pools on the floor, left a short trail of bloody shoe footprints as he and Professor Lupin bolted for the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey was already at work behind the privacy screen around a bed, frantically applying potions, tending to Harry; many gashes and slices were across his naked body, blood puddled in his black pubic hair and stained his skin. Professor Lupin raised his wand, silver and green sparks shot out, the sparks flew out of the Hospital Wing.

“What happened?” Madam Pomfrey asked, her focus remained on Harry.

“An attack,” Professor Lupin said, “Ron?”

Ron, however, watched Madam Pomfrey’s scramble; his best friend badly torn on the bed, the lack of sparkle from Harry’s green eyes.

“I’m getting her,” Ron stated.

“Go!” Professor Lupin ordered.

Ron went into Madam Pomfrey’s office, adjusted and activated his Portkey; he landed in Gia’s bedroom a moment later, which was empty, except for Hedwig napping. Ron left the bedroom, saw Richard in his.

“What the devil?” Richard stammered.

“Where’s Gia?” Ron demanded.

“At Jen’s,” Richard said, “Why?” Richard’s eyes were trying to decipher Ron’s attitude, as Ron was still in his school uniform, with the slacks, the jumper, and the Gryffindor tie.

“I need her, now!” Ron said, calmly but stressed with the urgency, “There’s no time to lose.”

“Sure,” Richard said as he reached for the phone on his desk, punched up the numbers, “Jen—”

“Meet her half way?” Ron asked.

“Jen, get Gia to meet us on Maple,” Richard said, “Ta.”

“Show me,” Ron said.

Ron followed Richard, down the stairs, along Oak Street, cut through to Maple; Gia and Snuffles were coming the other way, Jen a short way behind.

“What’s wrong?” Gia asked.

“It’s Harry,” Ron said.

“I’ll blind Jen,” Richard said, running past them, intercepting Jen.

Ron activated his Portkey, pushed it against Snuffles, Gia held on. They landed in Madam Pomfrey’s office.

“It’s serious and bloody,” Ron said as he showed her out into the Hospital Wing.

Gia rushed to the bedside, she looked at Harry laying there, some bleeding including from a couple of cuts across the penis, but with an IV dripping in fluids into his left arm. Madam Pomfrey was there, busily working, curses after curses came from her wand, Harry twitched a bit from each one.

“Is he doing better?” Ron asked.

“Let her work,” Professor Lupin said, pulling Gia back away from the bed, “It’s serious and still up in the air.”

“Mr. Potter’s lost a lot of blood,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Remus, more reserve blood, stat.”

As Professor Lupin went for the cabinets, Gia ran to the sink and puked.

“Are you alright?” Ron asked Gia.

“All out,” Professor Lupin said, “I don’t see any Blood Potions either.”

“Mr. Potter’s too weak for those,” Madam Pomfrey said, “I need blood.”

“Sorry all the blood makes me—” Gia said, returning to sit on the adjacent bed, “I’ll donate.”

“Get the pump,” Madam Pomfrey said to Lupin.

“Me too,” Ron said.

Professor Lupin grabbed a pair of small green boxes, rushed them over. Madam Pomfrey waved her wand, both boxes opened, and the pumps with tubes each attached one to Harry, the others went to Ron’s arm and Gia’s. Gia winced as the tube bit into her. With a whir, the pumps began to drain blood from Ron and Gia, sending it into Harry. Madam Pomfrey returned her attention to Harry and the extensive lacerations, still oozing a bit of blood, but less than before. Gia held and rubbed Harry’s right hand, one of the few exceptions to his wounded body, his blood darkening.

“I’ll risk two pints each,” Madam Pomfrey said to Ron and Gia, “If you feel dizzy, stop the transfusion immediate and notify me, understood?”

“Yes,” Ron said.

“There are plenty of other willing donors if needed,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Madam Pomfrey kept tending to Harry as slow footsteps slowly approached, accompanied by the tapping of a cane onto stone. Professor Dumbledore took his time to steady himself on the cane, came into the Hospital Wing; Hermione was right behind him. Hermione ran, beat Professor Dumbledore to the bed. Professor Dumbledore steadied himself near the bed; earned a momentary glance from Madam Pomfrey at his small shaking.

“I came as quick…as quick as I could,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Quidditch practice has been canceled—” Ron said.

“Quidditch?! Quidditch?!” Hermione exclaimed, “That’s all you could think—?!”

“Civility!” Madam Pomfrey snapped.

“I’m a bit tied up at the moment.” Ron kissed her angry face with her flashing brown eyes. “Be a darling and inform the team. Please?”

“Alright!” Hermione snapped, “Don’t lose him.” She left the Hospital Wing.

“I would appreciate … an explanation,” Professor Dumbledore said.

Ron described the attack.

“I heard their shouts and rounded the corner to this barbarism,” Professor Lupin said, “My first priority was Harry, so I haven’t been able to investigate.”

“Understood,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I will look … into the armor.”

With a slow and deliberate gait, Professor Dumbledore left the Hospital Wing and the tapping of his cane echoed for a short while after.

“Please endorse my petition for an assistant,” Madam Pomfrey said to Professor Lupin, “I know, Albus will remind me of expenses, but tending to Mr. Potter has become a full time job by itself.”

“Complaining—?” Ron asked.

“I meant no disrespect,” Madam Pomfrey said, “I love helping and healing, that’s what keeps me here. However, with the frequency of Mr. Potter’s visits, I get rather busy and need another skilled hand.”

“I take it this was Harry’s idea?” Professor Lupin asked, tugging at the collar around Snuffles’ neck.

Snuffles growled. Gia nodded.

“Well, keep an eye on Harry,” Professor Lupin said to Snuffles, “I’ve got an investigation.’

Professor Lupin left the Hospital Wing.

“His hand’s getting cold,” Gia said.

“I had to stop the blood to his arm,” Madam Pomfrey said, “I’ll see to doing that next.”

“He’s not going to make—?” Ron started.

“My top _priority_ is saving his life,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“Sorry,” Ron said.

“I’m doing my best after somebody tried to make steaks out of your friend,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Gia trembled, the blood pump detached itself from her arm, with a fresh bandage on it.

“You know Harry,” Ron said, wrapping his free right arm around Gia’s back, held her.

“I know,” Gia said, “Just don’t want this to be the time it doesn’t happen.”

“Any prognosis I give have a tendency to jinx the outcome,” Madam Pomfrey said, “I’ve got dozens of more bleeders to stop.”

Ron pulled his right hand back, reached for Gia’s jeans, slipped under her panties, and fingered her clitoris.

“Ta,” Gia said.

“Are you—?” Madam Pomfrey started to say to Ron.

“I _need_ it,” Gia stated.

“Sit on the bed, let Harry feel it,” Ron said.

“No!” Madam Pomfrey snapped.

“Then I’ve got to do it,” Ron said as his fingers slipped in between the lace, felt the tight opening inward.

“See you’re keeping busy,” Hermione said to Ron as she returned to the Hospital Wing.

“So?” Ron said, “It’s what Harry wants me to do.”

“Sure,” Hermione said, “He appears _real_ talkative right now.”

Hermione sat on the bed next to Ron, joined in the mutual watching as Madam Pomfrey worked her wand around Harry, applying ointments as she went. The spare blood pump attached itself to Hermione’s arm, the needle went into her.

“Wha—?” Hermione exclaimed.

“He needs it,” Ron said as Ron’s pump detached itself, “Though he also wants to see us bang.”

“You mean you want to,” Hermione said.

“Great way to deal with stress!” Ron said.

“Mr. Weasley!” Madam Pomfrey snapped.

“I am hungry,” Gia said, changing the topic.

“Replenish yourselves.” Aiming her wand, Madam Pomfrey conjured up a table with pumpkin juice and sandwiches. “And when he comes around—” Madam Pomfrey pointed at Harry “—shove twice as much down his throat—he needs to fill out.” She prodded at Harry’s clearly protruding ribs.

“He promised,” Gia said, “One thing after another….”

“That’s Harry,” Ron said.

“Attracts trouble like steel to a magnet,” Hermione said, “It’s not him, it’s others doing it to him.”

“He is definitely not doing Quidditch Practice,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Neither are you Mr. Weasley—” She closed the last of Harry’s lacerations “—I will be back momentarily.” Madam Pomfrey went for her office.

“So it’s true!” Malfoy pushed his way forward to the front of group coming into the Hospital Wing, tearing at the privacy curtains; he spat at the foot of Harry’s bed. “I should’ve known! Potter seems to have let the springs of Weasley’s dilapidated mattress get to him. Sorry fellows, looks like your so called stars cancelled practice for a little fudge packing!”

Josh Brenner led the Gryffindor Quidditch team in; he shoved Malfoy out of the Hospital Wing. Brenner and Ginny came over to Harry; they looked at him. Harry was uncovered as he laid there, Madam Pomfrey’s magic sealed the gashes better than bandages. Ron’s hand stopped Ginny’s from reaching Harry’s bloodied dick seeping out a slight drop from the exposed slit every second or so.

“Will he recover?” Ginny asked.

“Unknown,” Ron replied.

“OUT!” Madam Pomfrey yelled as she rounded back out of her office.

People hesitated; a bang and sparks came from Madam Pomfrey’s wand; people rushed for the doors. Gia ran her finger along a bit of red skin on Harry’s arm.

“He needs to be cleaned,” Gia said.

“He’s in too perilous of a condition for a cleaning charm,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“Then get me some water and a sponge,” Gia said, “At least I can be useful, give Harry a bit of dignity.”

“I will supervise since my charms are keeping him from bleeding to death,” Madam Pomfrey said, summoning over as Gia had asked, “Skip the cuts.”

Gia grabbed the sponge, dipped it into the soapy water, and began with Harry’s forehead. She brought his legendary scar back into view, worked the brows, skipping the cuts along the way. Gia wiped against his cheeks, his nose, his lips. Harry began to twitch.

“Step away,” Madam Pomfrey snapped.

Gia, though, reached for Harry’s left earlobe with her right hand, while her left reached for his scrotum, held on.

“Do not _grope_ in the—” Madam Pomfrey said.

“It works!” Gia retorted.

“Gia and Harry sleep together, a lot,” Ron said.

Gia relaxed her grip, returned to cleaning the dried blood from Harry’s skin, while her bare feet worked at Snuffle’s belly beneath her.

“It’s inappropriate,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“But they do,” Ron said, “Just like me and Hermione do.”

“Ron!” Hermione snapped.

“You’re way too young,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Those were just rumors and idle gossip.”

“It’s quite true that I’ve had _SEX_!” Ron said, pointing his thumb back to himself, “That’s the part that’s true. I’ll even demonstrate!”

Ron undid his belt, hooked his thumb and pushed the front of his trousers down, exposing his dick, laying there. Ron stretched his foreskin, gripped his dick and tried to massage it. Ron blushed as his penis stayed soft.

“What’d you expect?” Madam Pomfrey said, “You just gave two pints of blood.”

“Hermione, help me make my point,” Ron said.

Hermione reached over, grabbed Ron’s soft todger, held it. Ron grinned.

“You’re just children!” Madam Pomfrey exclaimed.

“I’m _sixteen_!” Ron said, “And hate to break it to you, this ain’t exactly rare, it’s not like we’re the only ones having sex! Are you seriously expecting us to be boyfriends and girlfriends, and _not_ try to have sex? I’ve got news for you, IT HAPPENS!”

“Some things are better not spoken,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“If it weren’t for that attack,” Ron said, “Harry’d be banging right about now.”

“Ron!” Hermione snapped.

“Why hide from the truth?” Ron said, “I love you, and I ain’t afraid of that rumor. Going to bed with you, playing with you, turns rotten days into alright days, and alright days into bright days. I think it does for you too, right?”

“Have you considered the consequences of being sexually active?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“Yeah,” Ron said as he stood up, he ignored his falling trousers, “We had sex all summer long, it was a _great_ holiday.”

Madam Pomfrey took a moment to study Ron; his soft todger and scrotum hung down beneath the hem of his white dress shirt.

“And we spent it _naked_ ,” Ron said, “I didn’t bother to keep count, but yeah, we definitely had a lot of sex, I’m not ashamed of that! Nor is Harry.”

“Then I need to check—” Madam Pomfrey aimed her wand at Hermione, Gia. “No sign of pregnancy. I take it you at least use protection.”

“I’m not mental!” Ron said.

“That remains to be seen,” Hermione said, her eyes able to see Ron’s bare buttocks.

“Wonder if Harry’s listening,” Gia said, “He’d love this.

“We found the spell that gives protection,” Hermione said.

“Makes me a bit weak on the magic,” Ron said, “Worth it though.”

“I do need examine you Mr. Weasley,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Convenient as you’re practically volunteering for it.”

Hermione laughed as Madam Pomfrey reached for Ron’s testicles hanging right in front of her and sat on a stool.

“My big mouth,” Ron grumbled.

“It does have its uses,” Hermione said.

“Sorry if I forgot to check your bite,” Madam Pomfrey said, sealing the minor laceration on Ron’s thigh.

“I kinda wasn’t worrying about it,” Ron said, giving a glance to Harry asleep on the bed.

“I could move you to a different bed,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“This lot’s fine,” Ron replied.

Madam Pomfrey caressed Ron’s balls with her left hand, feeling, while the right hand worked her wand. She carefully inspected Ron’s soft todger, her left fingers plying into it while the wand worked along the length. A glass jar levitated, surrounded the penis as she issued another curse. Madam Pomfrey felt into Ron’s urethrae as he peed.

“That feels alright?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“Yeah,” Ron replied.

Madam Pomfrey kept up her exam for another minute.

“Good evening Mr. Weasley,” Professor McGonagall said, coming into the privacy screen surrounding the bed. Her eyes immediately went to Harry. “My Goodness! He needs at least a blanket—” her wand came out.

“No!” Madam Pomfrey said, rising, “Do not risk the charms holding him together until he’s able to stomach a potion or two.”

“Is it as bad as the rumors said it was?” Professor McGonagall asked Madam Pomfrey while Ron pulled up his trousers.

“If it weren’t for the fast actions of Professor Lupin, he would have been dead in minutes,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Mr. Potter appears to be stable now.”

“You are excused, Mr. Weasley,” Professor McGonagall said, “It is past curfew already.”

“Come Hermione,” Ron said.

Ron and Hermione left the Hospital Wing, went up the stairs..

“You’re late,” the Fat Lady said as her portrait swung open.

Ron shrugged as they passed through. They ignored the giggling from behind the curtains in the corner. Hermione sat on the sofa, Ron stood in front of her.

“Do you mind,” Hermione said to Ron, “Your slacks are in the way.”

“Oh!” Ron said, fingers dropped his trousers to the floor, and he stepped out of them, “Could get closer.”

“No, stay right there,” Hermione said.

Her eyes traced the familiar todger, the loose balls descending from the warmth of the fire behind Ron. Her fingers reached over, began to undo the buttons to the dress shirt, revealed Ron’s lack of an undershirt as the red pubic was now showing.

“You just needed to see me starkers?” Ron asked.

“Believe it or not, there are times I do like to see it,” Hermione said.

Ron leaned, knelt against the sofa, watched her brown eyes for a moment, before he held her hands.

“You got worried, right?” Ron asked.

“All these trips to the Hospital Wing,” Hermione said, “Doesn’t that bloke realize—?”

“It’s Harry,” Ron said, “Trouble’s stuck to him like Spell–o–glue.”

Hermione cupped, held Ron’s balls.

“Too bad I can’t pop a stiffy,” Ron said.

“It uses blood,” Hermione said, “That’s how it does it, not enough, and, well, it’s not happening.”

“Let’s find out the moment it can,” Ron said, reaching for the buttons to her blouse, “If I could—”

“You would,” Hermione said.

Ron’s hands moved around to her back, he undid the snap, pulled the brassier up to show her tits. Ron grabbed her, moved her to lay on her back on the sofa. Ron moved to straddle her head, knees to either side, as he bent over.

“You’re not going to be satisfied,” Hermione warned.

“So?” Ron said.

Ron opened the front of her trousers, pushed the panties out of the way, and brought his tongue to her clitoris; he began to lick. Ron moved his tongue, while Hermione held his thighs, her eyes focused on the the bollocks, the foreskin covered todger, dangling above her head. Ron massaged with his fingers as his tongue caressed. His fingers, his tongue, worked into the vulva, feeling, probing. She breathed deeply, exhaled.

“Ta,” she whispered.

Ron’s torso, head, moved upward as he sat just above her head. Hermione inched herself to rest her hair in his lap. Ron leaned back, the sofa stretched itself to let him lay down too. Hermione turned to her side, resting her her ear into his pubic hair, the pouch of his balls rested against her neck, while the soft todger was against her cheek.

“You worried about Harry too,” Ron said as he summoned a blanket.

Hermione sighed, let her eyes close as he swaddled the blanket over them both.

* * *

“You’re being an idiot,” the Keeper said to the Seeker.

“I had the chance,” the Seeker said, “We would’ve had even more fun if that filthy werewolf hadn’t interfered.”

“A dead Potter won’t get us what we want,” the Keeper said, “We need him alive until we don’t, that is for _me_ to decide, not _you_.”

“Let’s ask the Lord,” the Seeker said.

“Do you _really_ want to do that?” the Keeper asked.

“No,” the Seeker said.

“Potter will be easy to kill when the time comes, so stick to the plan,” the Keeper said, “Stick to the plan.”

* * *

A yip and a thrash woke Gia up early Wednesday morning. She was under the blanket, next to Harry on the bed in the Hospital Wing, both were naked beneath the sheets and blankets.

“What am I…my head,” Harry grumbled, “Here, again?”

Gia got out of the bed.

“Where—?” Harry asked.

“I pestered her into letting us sleep together, but I have to let her know when you wake up,” Gia said, making for Madam Pomfrey’s office.

Gia entered the office. Madam Pomfrey had a quill in hand, writing on parchment. An assortment of devices were strewn about her desk, including condoms and some pills.

“Harry’s awake,” Gia said, “Talking.”

“Good,” Madam Pomfrey said, her eyes staying to her parchment, “I didn’t think my request would be approved, but it was, TODAY!”

“Running a sexual education course?” Gia asked.

“After Mr. Weasley’s persistence, I managed to convince Albus,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Hopefully you refrained from Mr. Potter—?”

“We just slept,” Gia said, “Though I’d like to know when he’s fit enough again, for that.”

Harry walked into the office.

“He’s too young to be doing it!” Madam Pomfrey exclaimed.

“He’s _wonderful_ ,” Gia said, “And though he does use the condom, I worry it’s not enough, and it’d be nice to not have to remember it.” She grabbed the pill. “Would this be a good idea?”

“Condom’s good and all,” Harry said, “It’d be nice to be skin on skin.”

Madam Pomfrey studied the two teenagers standing there. Gia, with her blond hair and shaved pubics. Harry, only a couple of blemishes remained, also naked like Gia with his penis partially engorged.

“There is a potion, in pill form for those wishing to blend in,” Madam Pomfrey said, “I am hesitant to prescribe it to students.”

Gia’s eyes fleeted, landed on a dust covered model of the male midriff in the corner, it’s penis was laying on the floor.

“You could use a real model, for your lessons,” Gia said, “If it’s Harry, can you prescribe?”

Harry glared at Gia.

“Mr. Potter, your health is my concern and shall remain so as long as I’m your Mediwitch, despite how reckless you might disregard it,” Madam Pomfrey, “Therefore, I will consider your girlfriend’s request so long as you _comply_ and let me do my job when it comes to your health.”

“Hermione would need it too,” Harry said.

“Do we have an agreement?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“Yes,” Harry replied.

“Good,” Madam Pomfrey said, “You’re sexually mature, try to let that maturity into your life and accept responsibility for your health. I know that young wizards and witches tend to ignore it, but your health has to last you a lifetime, and your girlfriend is interested too.”

“Oi! There you are,” Ron said, as he entered the Hospital Wing, fully dressed for school, and came over to Harry. “You’re looking better. Going to bang for Madam Pomfrey?”

“Why would I do that?” Harry asked.

“Make sure everything’s working properly,” Ron said, “This ain’t.” Ron briefly grabbed Harry’s semi–flaccid penis.

“He’s down on blood,” Madam Pomfrey said, “If you’ll excuse me, I have things to prepare.”

“Sure,” Ron said.

Harry and Gia followed Ron back into the Hospital Wing; Hermione was there. Hermione hugged Harry, tightly, kissed Harry on the cheek, before letting go.

“Harry needs help getting his todger up, know a charm?” Ron asked.

Hermione studied Harry’s soft dick dangling there.

“It’s looking a lot better,” Hermione said.

“Check mine out,” Ron said.

“I already did,” Hermione said, “Don’t worry Ron, I know you can’t function without at least one daily compliment about your dick.”

Harry laughed.

“About time for you to get to school,” Harry said to Gia, leaning over to kiss her.

“Back in the bed, Mister,” Gia said, pointing to Harry.

Harry cowered, backed himself onto the bed, sat down. Ron laughed.

“It’s not funny,” Harry snapped.

“You get the rest that you’ve been ordered to get,” Gia said, “I’ll go.”

“Let’s find a spot,” Ron said, grabbing Snuffles by the collar. Gia followed Ron.

* * *

Hermione sat on the next bed, facing Harry.

“Was it really that bad?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said, “You are my friend, I care about you, deeply.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Harry said.

“So the rumor is correct,” Professor Lupin said, coming in, “You have regained consciousness, welcome back to the living, Harry.”

“I didn’t die, did I?” Harry asked.

“No, but it did give us a very good scare,” Professor Lupin said, “As such, I want to know what happened, from your perspective.”

“Nothing much, really,” Harry said, “Ron and I were headed back to the dormitory, as we needed to get ready for Quidditch practice. We went around the corner and the armor attacked.”

“Try to be a bit more specific, if you can,” Professor Lupin said.

“Not much more,” Harry said, “I saw the blades moving on us, I think I pushed Ron.”

“That part worked,” Professor Lupin said, “Ron suffered a simple cut, whereas you were nearly fillets fit for roasting.”

“What of the armor?” Hermione said, “You’ve obviously investigated.”

“And I can tell you that the armor, like it all, was cursed, enchanted,” Professor Lupin said, “But whoever it was did a good job covering up their tracks by alerting the House Elfs to do some fast cleaning, so I’ve got no leads. I’ll try to keep you apprised if that changes, but I wouldn’t keep my hopes up if I were you.”

“Thanks,” Harry said.

Professor Lupin turned around, began to leave, before he stopped and faced Harry again.

“Ron, Hermione, and Gia eagerly volunteered to donate some of their blood, to you, so that you may live. I wouldn’t be surprised if all the blood in your body is from them,” Professor Lupin said, “You’ve got good friends, cherish them.”

Professor Lupin left.

“You gave me blood?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Hermione said as she leaned forward.

Hermione reached, held Harry’s loose testicles hanging over the edge of the bed. Harry smiled.

“You look worried,” Harry said.

“Something Ron said,” Hermione replied, “I do love you too.”

Harry blushed.

“Blimey!” Ron said as he returned to the Hospital Wing, “Get kissing you two!”

“Hi Ron,” Harry said.

“We need to get to breakfast,” Ron said, “Trying to think, keeping you occupied, you know, so you’re not tempted to duck out. I’m thinking D–O–B–B–Y.”

“Not Dobby!” Harry snapped.

Pop!

“Dobby is happy to serve Harry Potter!” Dobby said.

Harry glared at Ron.

“Harry needs to follow Madam Pomfrey’s orders,” Ron said, “And, keep him company.”

“Dobby helps Harry Potter!” Dobby exclaimed.

“Come,” Ron said to Hermione, holding her hand.

Hermione followed Ron, they left the Hospital Wing.

“That was—” Hermione started.

“Without Gia there, he’d go wandering,” Ron said.

They entered the Great Hall. Grumblings met them as Professor McGonagall was handing out revised schedules; she handed one to Ron and Hermione.

“Why—?!” Neville muttered as Ron sat down at the Gryffindor Table.

Ron glanced at the food and started dishing some out to his own. Hermione read the schedule, saw the lesson _SEX–ED_ on it.

“Unbelievable!” Dean exclaimed.

“Your big mouth,” Hermione said to Ron, “Looks like Madam Pomfrey took you seriously.”

“Sexual awareness…” Neville moaned.

“We’re all quite aware—boys versus girls,” Seamus snapped, “Girls not arses—”

“Condoms—” Dean snapped.

“Cut em off—” Seamus grabbed a knife and reached for Ron’s shirt, “Problem solved!”

Ron pushed Seamus back.

“Falling for Slytherin bait and fodder?” Hermione asked.

“Balls to suggest we catch him in the act,” Seamus said.

“Why the fuck do you care? You’re not being asked to participate, are you?” Ron said, “Harry’s cock, Harry’s choice, understood? So, bugger off.”

* * *

“Dobby wonders why Harry Potter is not dressed,” Dobby said.

“I was a bloody mess when I came in,” Harry said, “They had to destroy my clothes to save me.”

“Dobby understands, Dobby had tea cozy for so long,” Dobby said.

“It’s different,” Harry said, “I’m supposed to sleep, and I sleep starkers.”

“Dobby understands,” Dobby said, fingers about to snap.

“No!” Harry exclaimed.

“Mr. Potter,” Madam Pomfrey said as she entered, flask in her hand, “He could fetch—”

“You need me naked for those lessons, right?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“Lets not waste time with me getting dressed and undressed,” Harry said.

“Drink up,” Madam Pomfrey said, handing the flask to him, “Best not to look at it.”

Harry did, saw the red within. It took a moment of courage to bring it to his lips. A bitter metal taste went over his tongue, Harry made a face of disgust.

“Yeck,” Harry muttered.

“Stand,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Harry stood. She watched as his dick began to stiffen, rise, into a hard erection.

“This, again,” Harry grumbled.

“You’re lucky nothing had to be permanently amputated,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Please, feel yourself up.”

Harry rolled his eyes, felt his hard shaft. Out of habit and an urge, Harry stroked it, until he recoiled from the sharp pain.

“Where?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“Here,” Harry said, quickly retracting his foreskin, a cut was on the narrow part beneath the glans.

“I was afraid of this, missing a spot,” Madam Pomfrey said, bringing her wand over, tapping his dick, “You simply had so many, and once you were stable, it’s better to rest and heal later.”

“Sorry,” Harry said.

“Try it again,” Madam Pomfrey said as Harry resumed, “I know this may feel awkward, or embarrassing. Lets just make sure it all works as desired, because you don’t want to let that girlfriend down, do you?”

“No,” Harry said.

Harry kept stroking, felt the pressure build, the tension, and the familiar sudden release. Madam Pomfrey watched as Harry’s slit opened as his orgasm began. Thick and off–white, his semen shot forth, formed a series of puddles on the floor. Madam Pomfrey aimed her wand, drew out a filament, and lifted it upward. She looked at the sample.

“That works,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Touch yourself where you’d rather I not touch.”

Harry held his balls.

“Bit sore,” Harry muttered.

Madam Pomfrey aimed her wand. “Bit of seepage, that’ll be fine.”

“Go aheady,” Harry said.

Madam Pomfrey moved his arms, until he held them straight out. She began to feel along his right hand, his arm, until Harry winced as she felt into his armpit, a stabbing sensation.

“For all the good charms do,” Madam Pomfrey said, “There were enough cuts and dings that some have elluded my spells, so this personal examination will have to do.”

Harry stood there, arms out, as Madam Pomfrey kept checking. His dick had softened when the first of the lesson bells rang; her hands had already reached down to his naval.

“We’ll finish this afterwards,” Madam Pomfrey said, “I need you in the classroom.”

Harry followed her, to the classroom, already filling with first and second years.

“Hi,” Ash said to Harry.

“You’re naked!” said Gale, the blond haired Hufflepuff boy sitting next to Ash.

“Yes I am,” Harry said, “Madam Pomfrey’ll explain.”

“And girls,” Gale said, slinking down in his seat.

Harry turned his head, as the red haired Ginny entered the classroom; she too, was starkers, clearly had let a bit of her carpet grow back in since August. Before Harry had a chance to curse, Madam Pomfrey stood in the front center of the classroom; she waved at Harry and Ginny, both walked up to stand up front; Ginny stood to Harry’s right, while Madam Pomfrey was to his left.

“Good morning first and second years,” Madam Pomfrey said, “I am Madam Pomfrey, your mediwitch, and you can usually find me in the Hospital Wing. My assistants here are Mr. Harry Potter and Miss. Ginny Weasley, who have both graciously agreed to be models for this lesson.”

Some claps. Ginny blushed. Harry felt a bit of awkwardness, as these weren’t real strangers, however, as with all his misadventures recently, had started to get accustomed to the exposure, simply grinned as the eyes surveyed him, including the loose todger and the low hanging bollocks.

“You’re all eleven or twelve,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Whether you leave Hogwarts after your OWLs or stay on to earn your NEWTs, you all will grow up, and your bodies will change. The wizards can expect changes similar to Mr. Potter’s, while the witches can expect to be similar to Miss. Weasley.”

Harry saw the eyes, none watching Madam Pomfrey, all on either Harry or Ginny. All the scars, the blemishes, from the previous day had already vanished from Harry’s skin; leaving his customary one on his forehead, though nobody was looking there. Behind Harry, the projector lit to life on the screen, showing a closeup of Harry’s genitals.

“As you mature in a process we call puberty, you will become attracted to each other, and this lesson deals with that,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Please take out parchment and sketch this—” She pointed with her wand at Harry’s genitals. “Label as I describe it. This is his pubic hair.” She pointed to Harry’s thick black bush. “It is a good indicator that Mr. Potter’s puberty is nearly complete.”

A Hufflepuff girl raised her hand; her parchment fell to the floor.

“Yes, Easter Oakdale,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“I don’t have that,” Easter said, “It’s ugly too.”

Harry blushed as Easter’s eyes darted from him to Ginny.

“Each wizard here will get some to shape as they please,” Madam Pomfrey said, “When you find a boyfriend, he will likely be eager to show it to you.”

Some catcalls.

“This is Mr. Potter’s penis,” Madam Pomfrey said, pointing, “At the end is his foreskin, can you please retract it?”

Harry’s fingers did this.

“Can’t see,” Ash complained.

Harry’s pink glans, including his slit, showed up large and centered on the screen behind him. Madam Pomfrey continued to point out, describe Harry’s anatomy, including his testicles; even having him bend over to point out where the prostrate was in regards to his anus.

“I understand you have Ron to thank for this,” Ginny whispered to Harry.

“Now, sketch Miss. Weasley,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Ginny blushed as her crotch went to the screen. Madam Pomfrey repeated with Ginny, pointing out her features, from her clitoris, to the labia, to the nipples of her breasts, as each student sketched and labeled these. The bell rang.

“Put your name on your drawings and hand them in,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Quickly, the first and second year students did this, left. Another rush of students came in, the third and fourth years.

“You know, we’ve never had these lessons before,” Harry whispered to Ginny.

“Ron spouted off to her by your bed last night,” Ginny said, “Surprise, surprise.”

Harry has a passing familiarity with some of the students, especially Dennis Creevy who was carrying one of Colin’s cameras.

“Welcome third and fourth years,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Being that you’re thirteen, fourteen years of age, you’ve undoubtedly noticed changes in yourself and others. Wizards expect—” she pointed to Harry’s dick “—this to get bigger, and these—” she pointed to Harry’s balls “—to drop lower and be more profound. And witches find that—” she pointed to Ginny’s breasts “—develop and will begin to experience bleeding—” she pointed to Ginny’s vagina “—which is called a period.”

Click!

Dennis had the camera aimed at Harry and Ginny standing next to each other.

“Mr. Creevy!” Madam Pomfrey snapped.

“Sorry,” Dennis said.

“You are all experiencing a change called puberty,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Girls will chase the boys, and the boys will respond—” she aimed her wand.

Harry felt the curse, enticing his penis, and it stiffened fast into a hard erection jutting outward. The projector showed enlarged view from all sides on the wall.

Click!

Dennis smiled as Madam Pomfrey glared.

“Utterly embarrassing and confusing the wizard,” Madam Pomfrey said, as she returned to the topic of Harry’s hard cock, “He will likely chase a different girl, and the inevitable fights will land them in the Hospital Wing. While the staff can provide advice, how you sort out your relationships is ultimately up to you. Who here has experienced a wet dream?”

Blushes came from most before Dennis slowly raised his hand. Every other boy raised theirs.

“It is called an orgasm,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Both boys and girls can have them, but the boys will result in a sticky mess—” she aimed her wand.

“There’s no need to demonstrate _that_ ,” Harry said to Madam Pomfrey. Some giggles.

“Once a wizard is able to do that, there is the temptation for the boyfriend and girlfriend to become sexually active. Let me explain the rules of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry ,“ Madam Pomfrey said, “Sexual activity is prohibited; whether that is to simply toss, called masturbation, or to have sexual intercourse with another. Additionally, should a witch become pregnant, then both the witch and wizard will be expelled; your wand broken.”

“I’ve seen banging in the common room,” said Owen Cauldwell.

“Today’s lesson is pragmatic,” Madam Pomfrey said, “This is a boarding school, so starting with expulsion would leave us with no students left. If you use discretion and protection, then the odds of getting in trouble are minimal. If you need protection, consult with me because my oath as a Mediwitch supersedes my obligations as a member of staff.”

“What is there?” Owen asked.

“This is called a condom,” Madam Pomfrey said, holding up the small package, “Mr. Potter, please demonstrate.”

Harry opened it, let everybody watch as he unrolled it across his hard cock. Madam Pomfrey tugged for a moment at the side. Dennis kept taking pictures.

“You see it to be snug,” Madam Pomfrey said, “You want no leakage, a leak can get her pregnant.”

“Now, demonstrate,” Ginny said to Harry.

“What?” Harry stuttered.

“She wanted me here so we could demonstrate usinge your condom,” Ginny said.

“Come on Mr. Potter,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Don’t be shy.”

Harry hadn’t counted on this; being starkers in front of the lower classmen was one thing, this was slightly more.

“You know how,” Ginny said, coming in close to Harry.

Ginny pulled Harry as she stepped backward, leaned back on the desk on front of Dennis Creevy and Owen Cauldwell. She pulled Harry as she laid on her back. Harry realized he was obligated, everybody watching, everybody judging, including Dennis Creevy’s camera at point blank range. Harry straddled Ginny, knees on the table, lifting her. She helped thread his hard cock in. Dennis aimed the camera in close, moved from all angles, taking pictures as Harry began to thrust.

“Keep going,” Ginny said, “All the way.”

Harry kept it up, thrusting, drilling, as the class watched him, his butt in the air, his balls swinging, his pubic hair meeting Ginny’s red carpet. Harry pulled out, Dennis took close up pictures of the condom’s pouch filling up with semen. Harry removed his condom from his shrinking dick.

“As you can see, a condom does not interfere,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Harry got off the desk; Dennis snatched the used condom from Harry.

“Par—” Harry started before being interrupted by Madam Pomfrey.

“It is a good defense,” Madam Pomfrey said, “If you need them, just ask and I can provision you with one.”

Harry went back to the front, sat on the edge of the table; Ginny sat next to him.

“For the rest of the lesson, an essay,” Madam Pomfrey said, “List the sexual acts you know of, describe what makes each one safe, or not.”

“I’ve already got a _girlfriend_ ,” Harry said.

“You were good, no regrets,” Ginny said.

“I’m a model!” Harry said.

“You _love_ being starkers, admit it,” Ginny said.

“That too,” Harry said, “Wasn’t keen on us banging—”

“Small price,” Ginny retorted.

“I’ll piss on you if you try it again,” Harry said.

“I think that’d be the next lesson,” Ginny said, “If you don’t like it then tell Ron not to blab about all the sex happening to Madam Pomfrey!”

“Got a comb?” Harry asked.

Ginny went over to her clothes, pulled out her wand, summoned one, and brought it over to Harry.

“Here,” Ginny said.

Harry used the comb, took out the knots in his pubic hair until the bell rang. The other students turned in their papers. Ginny went to her clothes, got dressed, while Harry followed Madam Pomfrey back to the Hospital Wing. Ron and Hermione were there.

“Well?” Ron asked.

“I need a sample Mr. Potter,” Madam Pomfrey said, handing Harry a glass jar.

“You’re looking swell,” Ron said, as Harry began to piss into the jar, “Wonderful, actually.”

“Great,” Harry grumbled, “Thought that perfume was gone.”

“It’s not like I’m getting a stiffy for you,” Ron said, “Just made me appreciate how beautiful you really are, that’s all. Don’t think that’s going away.”

“Maybe I should find who made it,” Hermione said, “Get one here for you, Harry, to give Ronald a hard time.”

“You _liked_ it?” Ron asked Hermione.

“It was…interesting,” Hermione said, “Now Harry understands what a girl normally goes through.”

Harry tapped his dick against the jar, got the last drop, and walked over to Madam Pomfrey in her office. He put the jar on her desk.

“Thank you Mr. Potter,” Madam Pomfrey said. She took out her wand, aimed it at the sample. “I’ll conditionally release you, just show up for the lesson and bring your girlfriend this evening. In the meanwhile, have some lunch, you need to eat and fill out a bit.”

Harry turned around.

“Don’t forget to get dressed for lunch,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“Why?” Harry asked, spinning around, “I’m naked now because you don’t want me stressing my skin, half the school just saw me this morning, and the other half is about to. I wasn’t going to bother with that, and just head to lunch, as is.”

“You will also be a student for the next lesson,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Don’t forget your things.”

Harry left the office, went for the door. They left the Hospital Wing, went for the Great Hall, and entered. Harry caught more than a few glances, as he was naked and his dick freely swung. They sat at the Gryffindor Table; Ron to Harry’s right, and Hermione to his left.

“How was your morning?” Ron asked, piling on some sausages to Harry’s plate.

“Fine,” Harry said, “I’m not that hungry.”

“You should be,” Ron stated.

“Not that again!” Harry grumbled.

“We are worried about you,” Hermione said, “Eat up! See if you can eat more than Ron.”

“Ron’s a pig,” Harry said.

“Am not!” Ron exclaimed, mouth half full, still chewing.

“How was it?” Neville asked Owen Cauldwell, a bit down the table.

“Great,” Owen Cauldwell,”Harry banged Ginny.”

“Blimey!” Ron said before he came to glare at Harry.

“She probably volunteered just so I’d have to,” Harry said, “It wasn’t my choice.”

“You _fucked_ her?” Ron asked.

“My only other choice was to curse her,” Harry said, “I wasn’t going to hurt your sister!”

Harry stood.

“I’ve never—” Neville muttered.

“Easy!” Malfoy shouted, leading a small pack over to the Gryffindor Table, “Potter’s a whore—sleeping around—”

Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs watched the showdown. Harry turned, faced Malfoy, the loose testicles hung there as they usually did.

“Easy Draco,” Pansy Parkinson said, “Potter’s got a rough life—fucking fan after fan, weasels, Mudbloods, and other filth—”

“Weasel family fun—” Blaise Zabini said.

“Got your Herpes under control?” Harry asked, eyes glared right at Malfoy as Harry’s hand wagged his dick.

“Do not slander—” Malfoy sneered.

“Relax,” Tracey Davis said, “They’re just trying to cover the emotional damage that weasels inflict on their bitches—family affair, you understand. As evidenced by this Mudblood, looks like Potter’s in on the family secret on how to expertly hide the bruises.”

“Careful—” Ginny whispered to Ron, both of whom now had their wands drawn.

“Aw,” Malfoy said, “Looks like they want some family time everybody!”

Malfoy lead the pack of students out of the Great Hall.

“Adam, Eve, and Steve have fifteen minutes,” Seamus Finnigan announced as he joined the crowd of students out of the Great Hall.

This left four; Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny in the Great Hall.

“And you—you know I’m _not_ interested in you, not like that, right?” Harry asked.

“How was I supposed to know?” Ginny said, “It’s not like I was told; they just asked for volunteers and I raised my hand! Besides, your cock enjoyed it!”

“Lovely surprise,” Harry said, “Put my dick in a warm hole—of course it’ll go off! Doesn’t mean I wanted it to happen. I have news for you, GUYS DON’T CONTROL IT!”

“For the record, I wish it had been Colin,” Ginny stated, as she went to leave, “At least he loves me!”

“I do love you, as Ron’s sister—” Harry started to retort. Ginny, though, went out the door.

“So you did fuck her,” Ron stated.

“Yes!” Harry said as he sat back down, “Madam Pomfrey needed us to demonstrate using a condom. She seemed rather eager to go through with it.”

“I don’t blame Ginny,” Ron said, “That’s a lovely todger.”

“I am not—” Harry said, his finger pointed at Ron, “I’m not having you fuck me in the butt, understood?”

“For all of this,” Hermione said, “Would you rather still be naked?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “It is…it feels so much better than being dressed.”

“I knew it,” Hermione said, “Hiding your clothes…I didn’t realize…”

“I forgave you ages ago,” Harry said, “Best thing you could’ve done.”

“Yeah,” Ron said, “I’m kinda jealous.”

“If banging Ginny and having them draw my dick is the price I’ve gotta pay, so be it,” Harry said, standing up, “However, if you’d like to, feel free to bang her yourself.”

Harry left the Great Hall. Like pulling a muggle bandage off really slow, Harry realized that he had become accustomed to his exposure; and it did have one distinct positive, nobody could claim he had any sort of rash with his skin uncovered for all of them to see. Harry climbed the steps, noticed those watching back, but otherwise paid no heed, and made it to Gryffindor Tower; he entered the common room.

“There he is,” said Gale, sitting next to Ash. Ash nodded.

Harry waved, went up the steps to his dormitory. Ash followed Harry into the sixth year boys’ dormitory.

“Hi,” Ash said.

“Hello,” Harry replied, sorting out the book bag.

“Any Quidditch today?” Ash asked.

“Think I’m grounded,” Harry said.

“Oh,” Ash said.

Harry glanced at the clock, saw he still had fifteen minutes. Harry grabbed his Firebolt.

“A few minutes, alright?” Harry asked, mounting the broom.

Ash climbed on behind Harry. Harry expected the reach around, felt the fingers ply into his penis. It stiffened as Harry opened the window. Harry flew out; warmth of Ash’s breath warmed his back. Harry took a couple laps of the castle in the lunchtime mist.

* * *

“Albus, that is wholy inappropriate,” Professor McGonagall said, while staring out of the window from the Headmaster’s office. She could see Harry, his balls hanging freely, though contracting upward off the handle, flying while Ash, fully dressed, was holding onto the hard erection.

“You are Head … of Gryffindor House,” Professor Dumbledore replied, “You can rectify … it if you so choose … to.”

“I…” Professor McGonagall started, before she stopped.

“Harry does not … understand his powers, yet, … he is growing into it,” Professor Dumbledore said, “A young member of his house … has a fear of flying, … so Harry is helping him … overcome it, … even if it means … letting that member touch … intimately. Harry is naked … against the rules … however, he persuaded Madam Pomfrey … to write him a pass.”

“Speaking of her, I wish you would reconsider Albus,” Professor McGonagall said, “It’d give you more time.”

“Time is something … we don’t have … a lot of,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“You’re guaranteeing even less for yourself,” Professor McGonagall replied.

“I have … accepted it, Minerva,” Professor Dumbledore replied.

* * *

Harry sweated a bit as he ran through the corridors, his dick flopped, before his feet slid on the marble, and he came into the classroom that was filled with all of the fifth, sixth, and seventh years. He sat next to Ron and Hermione.

“You’re supposed to be taking it easy,” Hermione said, “Remember, you’ve got two pints of _my_ blood in you.”

“Bit late,” Harry said.

“Good afternoon,” Madam Pomfrey said, “You are all fifteen or older, so do I need to describe what a penis is?”

Heads shook.

“Rumors have been going around alleging certain irregularities in the welfare of the student body,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Whether these are true or not, a strong course in adolescent health is necessary. Mr. Potter, Miss. Weasley, come to the front.”

Harry got up, went to the front. Ginny was already naked. Madam Pomfrey quickly went over their anatomy, like she did with the first years. Showed a condom and had Harry test fit it for them all to watch, before she changed the subject.

“Diseases and illnesses can also be spread by sexual activity,” Madam Pomfrey said, “If a disease is suspected, then an examination should be conducted. We’ll cover that today, and giving you some tips about when to seek medical help.”

“Make him piss!” Seamus shouted.

“Samples are part of the examination,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Urine tells you a lot about a patient.”

Harry understood the message, grabbed the sample jar, aimed.

“That’s not so hard,” Malfoy sneered as Harry peed.

“If you’re so cocky, you do it!” Ron snapped at Malfoy.

“Thank you for volunteering Mr. Malfoy,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Come up to the front.”

Malfoy sulked, came up to the front.

“You’ll pay,” Malfoy promised to Harry.

“Here,” Madam Pomfrey said, handing Malfoy a jar, “Give us a sample.”

“It’s not that difficult,” Harry said.

“If you can do it, so can I,” Malfoy said, dropping his trousers, “Do _not_ laugh.”

“After a demonstration by Mr. Malfoy,” Madam Pomfrey said, “You will be examining each other, because discovering an illness early means you can get it treated early. To do otherwise risks your most private of parts.”

Laughs, giggles, and gasps came as Malfoy dropped his white briefs; the penis was short, the crumpled foreskin nearly obscuring it beneath the silvery gray pubic hair. Several boils were showing on his thighs. Malfoy aimed his penis, the sliver of pink of his glans peeked out, and he began to pee, cringing.

“Honey helps,” Neville said.

“Let everybody see it,” Madam Pomfrey said as she pointed to the microscopic zoom in on Malfoy’s urine, where spots of white were mingled in with the yellow, “This indicates an infection, you should have come to me ages ago Mr. Malfoy. Do not fear, I think we can remedy this.”

Some laughter, giggles.

“While I examine Mr. Malfoy,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Break into small groups so you can check each other. Here is a checklist.” She waved her wand, squares of parchment went over to each table.

Harry went over to Ron and Hermione; Neville came over.

“Are we supposed to—?” Neville asked.

“Gotta bare it to check it,” Harry said.

“Easy for you to say, you’re already bare,” Neville retorted.

“We’re supposed to check at least three Others,” Hermione said, “And ourselves.”

Some privacy screens were moved from the sides of the classroom; Neville grabbed one, cordoned off around him, Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

“I know you don’t need it,” Neville said, “Me—different story.”

Ron was already stripping; his red pubic hair fully exposed.

“Like you need the excuse,” Hermione said.

“You’re welcome to check me,” Harry said to Neville.

“Sure,” Neville said.

“Here,” Ron said, finger on the parchment, eyes focused on Hermione, “Gotta check this.”

Hermione was already halfway undressed when Ron approached her, fondling his todger.

“It says to feel with your _fingers_ Ron, your _fingers_ ,” Hermione said.

“Alright, alright,” Ron said, “But this—” he pointed to his stiffening penis “—is a very sophisticated feeling device, it’s more sensitive than my fingers.”

“Just do it by the form,” Neville said.

Ron sighed. Hermione was first with her form, on her knees, inspecting Harry’s penis, retracting the foreskin and peering beneath.

“You’re way too comfortable with this,” Neville said to Harry.

“It’s _just_ a dick,” Harry said.

Hermione moved from Harry’s scrotum to Ron, inspecting him and checking her list before she turned to Neville. Neville still had his briefs up.

“I’ll be quick,” Hermione said, pulling the white cloth down.

Neville blushed as his brown pubic hair showed.

“Haven’t been handled….” Neville started.

“A virgin?” Hermione asked.

“Y…yeah,” Neville said, softly.

Hermione patted, felt, held Neville’s scrotum, examined the penis, even pulled up the foreskin.

“That girl will be lucky to have these,” Hermione said.

Neville blushed further as it stiffened up.

“She does that to me too,” Ron said.

“I…” Neville muttered.

“Let her finish,” Harry said.

“I meant…” Neville cried as his hard dick launched the first shot of white, getting onto Hermione’s chest.

“Should’ve seen that coming,” Hermione said, “It’s alright.”

“She’ll do that to me too,” Harry said.

Hermione spun, glared at Harry.

“Please?” Harry whispered, “For him.”

Hermione held Harry’s dick, stroked it. Neville watched as Harry stumbled slightly, as Harry’s semen shot forth.

“Suppose Ron’s next?” Neville asked.

“Yeah,” Ron said.

“Thought you wanted to bang,” Hermione said.

“We can do that,” Ron said, “On the desk so we can inspect you.”

Hermione laid on the desk. Ron moved her legs until her feet hooked over his shoulders. Neville had already calmed down, even with a strand of semen that was dangling from his softening penis, and watched.

“Keep the checklist,” Harry said, handing Neville the sheet and the quill, “And feel her up.”

Hermione grinned, bore it, as the three boys explored her breasts, her stomach, before reaching her clitoris. Neville trembled.

“It’s alright,” Ron said, “Join in the fun.”

Harry reached over, brought Neville’s left hand over and pushed the fingers onto Hermione’s clitoris. Neville felt, blushed as he did so.

“They endorsed this?” Neville asked.

“Seemed like it to me,” Harry said.

“Makes sense,” Hermione said, “Who best to keep an eye on things than somebody who likes to keep an eye on it? Right Ronald?”

“Um…sure,” Ron said.

Neville chuckled.

Neville hesitated slightly, though Harry’s and Ron’s fingers marched right down the lace nestled in her brown carpet, moved inward, felt the warmth, the wall inside.

“Feels weird,” Neville said.

“Think that’s weird?” Ron asked, flexing his hips, a brief glint of red, and he pushed his hard cock inward.

“Didn’t mean that,” Neville said, pulling his fingers out, “Besides, there’s no protection.”

“You obviously didn’t see it,” Harry said, “It went on, though you might’ve missed it, better than an ordinary condom.”

“What is it?” Neville asked.

“Trade secret,” Ron said as he flexed his hips, drilled, “Now I’m feeling just about everything inside, she’s a bit tired.”

“You’re serious about that being better?” Neville asked.

“If you’re looking for anything out of the ordinary, then yes,” Harry said, “Madam Pomfrey insisted I check out _everything_ earlier, and we found a couple of things she missed yesterday.”

Ron held his cock in Hermione for a moment, breathed deep, and pulled it out; his white semen was pooled in the pouch at the tip, and he pulled back.

“Invisible?” Neville asked as the enchantment ceased and Ron dribbled to the floor.

“Not saying,” Ron said, with a grin.

“It’s merely birth control,” Harry said, “If Hermione or Ron had one of the diseases, they’d spread it.”

“Aw,” Neville said, “Not like I really need it.”

Hermione sat up, held Neville’s testicles.

“Don’t underestimate these,” Hermione said, “Go steady, and I’ll give it to you. Deal?”

“Sure,” Neville said.

The lesson bell rang. Neville hurriedly dressed, left. Neither Ron nor Hermione bothered, just sat there on a desk as the privacy screens went to the side. Soon, the room was nearly empty.

“Lesson is over,” Madam Pomfrey said, “You may get dressed now.”

“Kinda don’t feel like it, not yet,” Ron said.

“I can check you out,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“Our deal?” Harry asked.

“Bring your girlfriend to my office,” Madam Pomfrey said as she left.

“Um…” Harry slapped his hips, “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t have my wand on me?”

“It’s in my trunk,” Ron said, “I’ll go get her and bring it with me.”

Ron stuffed his clothes into his bookbag, grabbed his wand and Portkey, he activated it, and vanished.

“That’s what your arse was for,” Hermione said.

“It…um…stopped working last week, sorta fell out,” Harry said, “So I had to stop using it.”

“Still have it?” Hermione asked.

“I got everything out, but no,” Harry said, “Think their rubbish has already been picked up.”

“So there’s an enchanted condom somewhere in muggle rubbish?” Hermione asked.

“Yep,” Harry said, “Lets get to the Hospital Wing.”

“First time I’ve seen you excited to go to the Hospital Wing,” Hermione said as they left the classroom.

“Hear it out,” Harry said, “Think it’s a good thing.”

Hermione hadn’t bothered to dress either, so both her and Harry entered Madam Pomfrey’s office, naked.

“Ron and Gia will be along shortly,” Harry said as he sat.

“You are a resilient individual Mr. Potter,” Madam Pomfrey said, “I wish you’d learn to not rely on it so much, because at some point, it will fail you, and you’d leave your girlfriend a widow.”

“That’d be great,” Harry said, “Just get Voldemort to stop chasing me and everything will be fine!”

“We don’t know if he’s related,” Hermione said.

“Who else wants me dead?” Harry said, “If Professor Lupin hadn’t … I would have been killed. And Voldemort’s the first person I can think of who wants to see me dead.”

“Stop saying that,” Hermione said.

“It’s the truth, isn’t it?” Harry asked.

“Makes me worried,” Hermione said.

“And me,” Gia said as she entered, with Ron. She was wearing tight blue panties and a low cut blue sports bra.

Madam Pomfrey waved her wand, the door closed and locked itself; she did not rise so she did not see Harry’s erection forming.

“What I’m about to divulge does not leave this room,” Madam Pomfrey said, “I do not want to hear anybody else asking me about it, understood?”

“Yes,” Gia said.

“Yes,” Harry replied, his hard dick was in utter agreement.

Hermione and Ron nodded.

“I need to just do a cursory check,” Madam Pomfrey said, aiming her wand at Gia first, then Ron, and finally at Hermione, “Clean of STDs. As to you Mr. Potter, I’ve examined you enough times to know that you’re clean.”

“Thank you,” Harry said.

Harry figured though it may have been obvious, with their fresh lesson, and with them sitting there, naked save Gia, showing gratitude was the polite thing to do.

Madam Pomfrey held up the packets of pills.

“It’s a potions in muggle form,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Magical birth control pills, and I will prescribe them to both Miss. Granger and Miss. Prescott, seeing as I can’t persuade you to stop the sex, right?”

“That won’t happen,” Harry said, he stood enough to show his hard erection, aimed it toward Gia.

Ron, Gia, and Hermione shook their heads.

“Any side effects?” Gia asked.

“Aside from admitting to an active sex life to me, nothing you can’t manage,” Madam Pomfrey said, “With weekly usage, this potion will prevent pregnancy, without the hormone swings you’d find in the Muggle pills. It does this by substituting in a magic egg for the real egg when your body ovulates, so the real egg stays put in your ovaries, and the magic egg cannot be fertilized, to be passed out in the ordinary fashion. Understand?”

Ron shook his head.

“Condoms can leak, this can’t,” Hermione said to Ron, “With this potion, you don’t need a condom, I don’t have to do anything else except for taking it once a week, and my body won’t know the difference, and it’s impossible to get pregnant, right?”

“Yes,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Ron smiled.

“This will _not_ protect you from diseases, it will _not_ protect another girl should Mr. Potter or Mr. Weasley decide to stray,” Madam Pomfrey said, “It will only protect the person for whom it is prescribed, understood?”

“Get started,” Ron said to Hermione.

“Each take the first one, now,” Madam Pomfrey said, handing a pill each to Hermione and Gia. She handed over to cups of water.

Hermione and Gia both swallowed, drank.

“That’s it?” Ron asked, eyes wide like Christmas had come early.

“You will still need to use the condoms until their next period,” Madam Pomfrey said, “After that, it’s whenever you want to have sex.”

“This sounds wonderful,” Harry said.

“I will give you each four doses,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Come back in a month so I can check to see how you’re doing, and I will then issue you a year’s supply.”

“I can do this,” Gia said.

“A word of caution, do not skip a dose,” Madam Pomfrey said, “If you, for whatever reason, stop taking it, use protection, because once it stops being effective, unprotected sex will guarantee pregnancy.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Hermione said.

“Thank you Madam Pomfrey,” Harry said as he stood, his dick was still stiff, jutted outward.

“Oh, no Quidditch for you until next week,” Madam Pomfrey said to Harry, “And eat a bit more, I’d like to see a some meat on those ribs of yours.”

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Gia left Madam Pomfrey’s office.

“That sucks Mate,” Ron said, “I’ve got to get out there. And here you go.”

Ron handed over Harry’s wand, Portkey, to Harry. Harry escorted Gia behind a privacy screen, activated the Portkey, and she held on.

Harry and Gia landed in her bedroom, in Noigate. It was quiet in the house; Harry walked over, put an owl treat in Hedwig’s dish. Gia hugged Harry, kissed him, and pushed him back onto the bed; she knelt, straddled him, on her hands and knees, her blue eyes studied his bottle green, while her hands cradled his head.

“Thank you for coming back,” Gia said, “Must be starving, lets get something.”

“Not hungry,” Harry said.

Gia got off the bed, reached for his hand, grabbed, and pulled him upright.

“You should be, lets go,” Gia said.

Gia pulled, Harry followed, down the steps and out the front door.

“I don’t have a wallet on me,” Harry said, streets blocks along, the warm evening sun having loosened his testicles to dangle low beneath his hard dick, while he clapped his bare buttocks, “New school uniform?”

“Like you can talk,” Gia said, “Ron caught me changing, didn’t feel like dressing, besides, didn’t you fix your arse?”

“Nope, not yet,” Harry said.

“Lets see if this is the one,” Gia said, loosening her bra. Her breasts hung freely as she worked the cloth, it fell apart as she pulled out a twenty pound note. “This’ll do.”

“You’ve got others, right?” Harry asked, holding the torn cloth.

“Yep,” Gia said.

Harry put the brassiere into the rubbish bin they were passing.

“Suppose you’re suggesting I lose the underwear too,” Gia said, hinting at her blue panties.

“That’d be nice,” Harry said, his hard erection still swaying freely as they walked, “Though, I had to—three times my todger got spent today.”

They entered King’s Fish & Chips . Gia paid for a double order, carried it to the bar like table next to the window. Harry sat on the turnstile seat, his testicles hung over the edge. Gia sat to his left.

“You had no idea what you signed me up for,” Harry grumbled.

“If it’s anything like I’ve had to go through many times over,” Gia said, “She’d cover your anatomy, figured you wouldn’t mind that.”

“But that was school, them,” Harry said.

“Know why I like you naked?” Gia asked, while blowing against a strip of the chicken.

“You like seeing me naked,” Harry said.

“That too,” Gia said, “But you feel more open, more honest, like this, warmer.”

Harry smiled.

“I mean it,” Gia said, “So what? They get to know the real you, why hide it?”

“I guess,” Harry said, “Kinda wanted to keep it from them.”

“I’m not ashamed, not jealous,” Gia said, “Don’t mind them seeing you as I see you. Besides, sure Ron loved it.”

Harry snorted. Gia felt the chicken strip, held it between her boobs.

“We’re doing that again?” Harry asked.

“Are you interested in eating it?” Gia asked.

“A bit,” Harry said.

“Good,” Gia said, handing him the chicken, “I want you fed. So, cut you a deal. Half the basket and I’ll lose the knickers right here. Don’t eat it, and they stay on all night long.”

“You wouldn’t—” Harry said.

“I would,” Gia said, “Madam Pomfrey’s right, you need to eat. Trust me that I’ll push on you to eat, and I expect you to follow through, understood?”

“Suppose,” Harry grumbled.

“Good,” Gia said, “Need sauce? I’m watching you.”

“No,” Harry said, working the chicken between his teeth. He ate.

“We can play airplane,” Gia said, holding a chip toward him, “What do your people call it?”

“I was raised normally…if you consider the Dursleys _normal_ ,” Harry replied.

Harry ate, bit after bit, as Gia brought it to his lips. After a bit, Harry put his hands forward.

“Full,” Harry said.

“Here,” Gia handed him one of the sodas.

“Thanks,” Harry said, “Not quite half.”

Gia studied it.

“Did better than I expected,” Gia said, “I love and care about you, understand that. Promise to do better—promise, alright?”

“Guess so,” Harry said.

“If I remove my knickers?” Gia asked.

“Yes,” Harry said.

Gia stood enough to slip her blue panties off, she put them onto the table along with the small change.

“Be a tip for somebody,” Gia said.

“You’re better like this too,” Harry said.

Harry turned a bit more, watched as Gia worked the rest. His left hand reached over, tickled her clitoris as she ate, his dick stiffened again.

“I need to eat, not choke,” Gia said.

“Oh,” Harry said, pulling back.

Gia ate, finished, before she grabbed the soda. She carried the large soda cup, sipping, as they left. They turned, followed High Street. Gia brought him into a small shop, dark air, cards on the shelves, crystal balls on the tables.

“I figured this is fake,” Gia said, “Still.”

Gia took a stack of cards, pulled out one with a bird.

“Graceful, like you,” Gia said.

A shrewd look from the lady behind the counter, and they left.

“It’s not like we made it a secret we’re not carrying anything,” Gia said.

“Can’t,” Harry said, seeing her naked, like him.

They stopped at the intersection. Gia held his loose testicles beneath the hard erection jutting forward, they got close, she leaned down and kissed him. Harry hugged her. A shrewd glance from a passing man, a honk from a car, and they separated, walked across the street.

They walked along a path that entered a park, to a wide creek, with a bit of a pond. A few teenage boys down to their underwear were in it, splashing about under the dimming sky.

“How good is your swimming?” Gia asked.

“I won’t sink, alright,” Harry said, “I’d rather fly over it, though.”

They went down the embankment, stood next to it. Several boys blushed as they glanced at Harry and Gia; Harry’s hard erection still jutting outward.

“We could—” Gia took a step for the water.

Harry, though, pushed, sat her on the edge of the grass, legs over the dirt, leaned her back, and knelt.

“Oh?” Gia asked.

“Why not?” Harry asked, pushing her to lay on the grass.

Harry hooked her lower calf muscles over his shoulders as he leaned forward. He brought his tongue to her clitoris, his fingers rubbed. Some snickers from the boys behind him, watching. Harry, though, moved his tongue, rubbed, before it entered into her lace, pushed into her vagina. He began to feel with his tongue, his fingers teasing her clitoris.

“I have to…” Gia muttered.

Harry tasted the sudden rush of bitterness, smelled it, as the warm liquid poured upward. He realized she was peeing, but Harry also knew to keep at it, to not judge. Harry kept licking, lapping, and Gia giggled; she did not stop, kept pissing onto Harry’s face as he worked her. His right fingers kept working her clitoris, while the left entered alongside his tongue, massaged. She breathed deeply, inhaling, exhaling, and he felt the tension easing in her wall inside. Tension swept through her muscles until they relaxed and she breathed easier. Harry heard the distinctive sound, smelled the foul smell, and pushed back away from her; held her legs in position as her anus dilated, let her brown sludge out.

“Sorry,” Gia muttered.

“It’s alright,” Harry said, thankful his cock was out of the way of the dropping hazard.

Harry glanced at the other boys, each trying to hide the pole in their briefs as they reached for denim trousers and left. Gia stopped, moved backward to sit before standing.

“I thought it was just gas,” Gia said.

“Shit happens,” Harry said, “Lets go home?”

“Got anything to wipe?” Gia asked.

Harry shook his head. Gia went to the water, felt it with her toe.

“Too cold,” Gia said.

“Not too far, I don’t think,” Harry said.

Harry wished he had brought his wand, a cleaning charm would easily scrub the crack clean, the brown smudges betrayed her. They left the park, walked along.

“I take it you don’t have those courses?” Gia asked.

“No,” Harry said, “And I had to demonstrate the condom.”

“Good model to demonstrate with,” Gia said, glancing at his hard erection swinging with his gait.

“Guess who volunteered to partner with me so I could demonstrate it’s use?” Harry said, “Ginny.”

“With the way you described her, likely the best way to resolve that,” Gia said, “I mean, after all, you did use protection with her.”

“I wasn’t planning to do her—ever!” Harry said, “She’s Ron’s little sister, had a crush on me—”

“I can relate,” Gia said.

“She finally got her wish,” Harry said.

“Your dick’s still good, right?” Gia asked.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Harry asked.

“Girls get asked the same question after another guy’s found out,” Gia said.

“Oh,” Harry muttered.

They made it back to 26 Oak.

“Hey,” Richard said, coming up to them, “Nice bum Gia.”

Gia blushed.

“I had to wait to clean,” Gia said.

They entered the house; went up the stairs. Gia went into the bathroom, used a washcloth, cleaned Harry’s face before she cleaned herself. Harry and Gia went into her bedroom; he laid on the bed, arms and legs wide. Gia got her math textbook from her bag, sat on the edge of the bed, her left hand worked around his hard erection, teasing it.

“Rough Day,” Harry said.

“At least once a year we’ve had it,” Gia said, “Sorry if I’m a bit less sympathetic, nice knowing what to stick where.”

Knock! Knock!

“Hey, Gia, it’s me,” Richard said, “Need to talk.”

“Come in,” Gia said.

Richard came in, starkers, his soft circumcised penis hung from his brown pubic hair beneath the smooth chest, his nipples pronounced and erect.

“Busy?” Richard asked.

Gia, though, leaned over, sniffed near Richard’s crotch, wiped a bit of white dust from his thigh.

“Baby powder?” Gia asked.

“Mum’s tired of replacing all the underwear Ant destroys,” Richard said, “Bit of that reduces chaffing, makes it more comfortable in my trousers.”

“In a pinch, suppose you could borrow mine,” Harry said, “Fitted for…exactly that.”

“Might try that,” Richard said.

“Keep that up,” Harry said to Gia.

Her finger was teasing into his foreskin, as it slid beneath, worked his glans.

“Thought you weren’t interested tonight,” Gia said.

“Feels good,” Harry said, “Nice spot.”

“It’s why we have sex–ed,” Gia said.

“They teach you _that_?” Harry asked.

“Only that this is sensitive skin for you,” Gia said, “Rest is left as an exercise to the reader.”

“Had something?” Harry asked Richard.

Richard’s eyes fixated on Harry’s hard cock, jutting upward, as Gia’s fingers kept teasing and massaging the pink glans.

“Mum freaked when she heard about your incident Harry,” Richard said.

Harry fixed his eyes onto Richard’s. Harry’s eyes strayed for a moment, Gia’s hand ran the length of his cock, returned to teasing his glans.

“I didn’t have to say anything,” Richard said, “Ron didn’t say much, just that it was critical.”

“It wasn’t that serious,” Harry said.

“Not serious?!” Gia stammered, “Transfusions—two pints from me!”

Richard’s hands worked at the two small flabs of fat on his stomach.

“Might want to go down and see Mum, she’s probably back by now,” Richard said, “She’s got your wallet, Harry.”

“Why?” Harry asked.

“Guess you left it here,” Richard said, “Ant stole it, tried to use your debit card. Mum’s got a question or two for you about it. Though she’ll be interested in how you didn’t realize it was missing yet it rang up as stolen.”

“Can’t fool the goblins,” Harry said, “They run the wizarding bank.”

“Aw, great protections then,” Richard said.

“You can say that,” Harry said.

“I’d recommend going to see Mum, like now,” Richard said.

“Alright, alright,” Harry said.

Harry drifted off for a moment, Gia’s rubbing had gotten to him, his dick tensed and released, his sticky white flew upward, poured down the side of his penis, laying trails and puddles in his pubic hair. Harry got up, went down the steps into the living room.

“Good evening,” Kristen said, she put a novel down into her lap. She was in her police sweats, legs propped up onto the coffee table.

“Richard said it was urgent,” Harry said.

Kristen studied the naked teenager with his unkempt jet black hair standing casually in her living room. Semen dribbling from his partially soft penis, the liquid glistened from the shaft, while beads of the snot drifted down through the wild forest of his pubic hair.

“Rumors of your demise at school were greatly exaggerated I see,” Kristen said.

“They tend to overreact to a stubbed toe,” Harry said, not wanting to explain magical healing if she knew the full extent.

“I’ve got your wallet in the study,” Kristen said, “Apparently you misplaced it in Gia’s bedroom, and Andrea tried to get a finders fee from you. Did you authorize this?”

“No,” Harry said, “Didn’t even realize she had taken it—don’t typically need it at school.”

“This bank…Gringotts , did a bit of research,” Kristen said, “It seems to be a rather small bank. Where is it?”

“Tiny corner of London,” Harry said, “Got good security.”

“Evidently, yes, if they knew it was stolen before you knew it was missing,” Kristen said, “Feels a bit dodgy, though, like it’s a front to something else that’s…don’t get your money mixed up with organized crime.”

“I inherited my parents’ account there,” Harry said, “It’s alright. Thanks for the wallet back, I’ll get back to Gia.”

Kristen could see the evidence of that, though Harry’s dick was now soft. Kristen nodded. Harry went back up the stairs; Richard was still in Gia’s bedroom.

“So, where is Ant?” Harry asked.

“Jail,” Richard said, grin on his face, “Mum’s punishment for her—and she only doles that out when it’s really serious. Did it once after that car incident a couple years ago, but Ant’s in there every several months.”

“Richard!” Jen shouted through the door, “Stop trying to pick up other women and get out here!”

“See ya,” Richard said to Harry and Gia; he left.

Harry closed and locked the door. He turned out the light, climbed into bed.


	20. Audit

“Harry, you recovered from near death—” Gia protested as Harry guzzled down the coffee in the kitchen the next morning.

“It means I didn’t get my run in yesterday,” Harry said, turning to the water pitcher.

“You’re going to piss the whole way again?” Gia asked.

“Yep,” Harry said.

“Like he said,” Richard replied.

Harry retracted his foreskin as he crossed the living room. He was barely out the front door when he began to piss. Richard started.

“Sorry for worrying you too much,” Harry said, “Gotta understand, we’ve simply got better healing. Take Gia’s father, or that hike.”

“But Ron would’ve known that, right?” Richard said, “Even he seemed worried.”

“Okay, _they_ might have thought it serious, but I’m better now,” Harry said, “And able to handle a full stomach of coffee in the morning.”

“I’m not saying to divulge anything,” Richard said, “Just try to think of something better for my folks, alright?”

“It’s tough keeping it straight in my head,” Harry said, “I might clue Ron in, let him know that you know, make that easier. And the debit card—how do I explain that a goblin personally checks that it’s me when I go to use it?”

“Aw,” Richard said.

“Yeah, aw,” Harry replied.

A bit later, Harry and Richard returned. Harry ran up the stairs, grabbed his Portkey and Wand, activated. A moment later, he landed in his four poster bed at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry . He climbed out of the curtains, walked into the shower. He turned on the knob, only a mist came out of the shower head before it stopped.

“Blimey!” Harry exclaimed, shaking the shower head.

Pink, pink, and yellow flower petals began to flutter, poured down from the shower head.

Click!

Colin was there, camera aimed at Harry in the shower.

“Colin!” Harry barked.

“Turn around, lemme get that arse crack,” Colin said.

“Get the fuck OUT!” Harry growled.

Harry tried the other shower head, it poured out orange and Gryffindor red flower petals.

Click! Click!

Harry gave up on the shower, and knew he couldn’t use the Portkey with Colin there; nor did he want to go into the other dormitories. He resigned himself to not showering, hoping he could do it later, and went over to his trunk. Colin brought the camera close to Harry’s genitals with the soft todger hanging there, aimed it.

Click! Click!

“Get out you…Slytherin!” Harry barked.

“Alright, alright,” Colin said, backing away, camera around his waist.

Click! Click!

Colin went out the door. Harry rummaged in his trunk.

* * *

An owl dropped it’s newsprint into the clutches of Hermione in the Great Hall. She laid down the special edition of Witch Weekly near her light breakfast when Neville came in. He blushed as he passed.

“Come on, sit,” Hermione said, pointing to the bench next to her.

“You’re dating _me_ ,” Ron said, before working a sausage patty into his mouth, “Remember?”

“Neville’s a friend too,” Hermione retorted to Ron.

Neville sat on the bench.

“Get a bit closer you two,” Seamus said, passing them, “Hate to break it to you Ron, but are you sure she wasn’t alone last night?”

“She slept with _me_ ,” Ron said.

“Thank him for covering up the truth,” Seamus retorted.

“Ignore him,” Neville whispered as Seamus moved along, “He’s just mad that you haven’t slept with him.”

“Why would I want to sleep with him?” Hermione asked.

“Rumor is…sorry, I’m just saying what I’ve heard,” Neville said, “That you’ll sleep with anybody.”

“MOVE!” Ron barked at Neville.

Neville did this, moved down to sit with Seamus.

“Ignore them,” Hermione said.

“Interesting,” Ron said, as Harry entered the Great Hall.

“What’s in today’s trash?” Harry asked as he came to them.

Hermione glanced, saw the flower petals in his hair.

“New fashion?” Hermione asked as Harry sat. Ron shoved the plate of sausage patties in front of Harry.

“Tell me you didn’t do something to the shower,” Harry asked.

“In the shower, yes,” Ron said, “Why the flowers?”

Harry ran his hand back through his hair, pulled a couple more petals out.

“Lovely pictures from yesterday’s lessons,” Hermione said, showing the one of Harry banging Ginny.

“If you see any of Colin’s cameras, bust them,” Harry said, “RON!”

Ron held a sausage near Harry’s face. Harry grabbed it, nibbled at it.

“I know this wasn’t your idea,” Hermione said, “I mean, no foreplay, no teasing, you went straight in, did your business, and got out.”

“Great, she’s knowing your dick too,” Ron said.

“Who doesn’t?” Harry grumbled, “Showing it to you, Hermione, and Gia—that was wonderful. I didn’t want it to become communal property with the whole fucking world!”

“Want me to read Ginny’s interview over it?” Hermione asked.

“No,” Harry stated.

“Hey,” Ron said as he pointed.

Harry stopped sipping the pumpkin juice from his cup, glanced up at the Staff Table. A tall and slender warlock, dressed in sky blue robes, was standing next to Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall walked along the aisle, handed out a revised schedule to Harry.

“It’d help if you were on time for a change Mr. Potter,” Professor McGonagall said.

Professor McGonagall kept on passing out the schedules to the Gryffindor table, while Professor Flitwick was handing out schedules to the Ravenclaw table. With a slow rise, Dumbledore’s hand trembled on his cane as he stood; the other hand gripped his chair.

“Good morning,” Dumbledore said, “ … Another day. … To my right is … Victor Fallerschain, … the Minister of Magic. … During his stay, … you are to … give him … your full cooperation.”

Minister Fallerschain swept past Dumbledore, his eyes roved across the hall at the various students.

“As you are all aware,” Minister Fallerschain said, “I am crusading against the waste and corruption that has gripped the Ministry for so many ages. This crusade has caught the eye of your board of governors. At their request, I will be personally conducting an audit into the affairs of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry . Within several days, with your help, we should be able to find efficiencies to be had and reduce the unnecessary overhead expense to better allow your teachers to educate you with maximum results.

“With the help of my assistants, we will interview every student. Professor McGonagall has graciously reworked your schedules to accommodate the interviews. Together we can improve Hogwarts so that it can still be a beaming icon of Britain that shines throughout the world, an institute that has produced the finest of Wizards and Witches through the ages.

“Thank you for your valuable input.”

Neville raised his eye as he peered at the schedule.

“Professor McGonagall appeared frustrated at last night’s Prefect meeting,” Dean said from nearby, “With all of the demands of the week, I think she gave up trying to make it work. It’s a small break for everybody, save the interviews.”

Ron read his schedule. “Bugger, likely saving the juiciest for last.”

“More than we needed to know,” Seamus said.

Harry stood, Ron and Hermione followed, along with the exodus of the other students.

“Suppose with this time—Quidditch practice?” Ron asked.

“Sure,” Harry said.

“You’re not supposed to—” Hermione started.

“I can still advise the others,” Harry said.

Ron and Harry made up the steps fast to their dormitory. Harry reached for his Quidditch Robes, paused, and stripped; kicked off his shoes.

“Doing that again?” Ron asked.

“Quidditch ought to be played naked, so much nicer,” Harry said, “But this is Hogwarts.”

Harry put his Quidditch Robes on, cinched the belt tight.

“We’ve got the Minister here, remember that,” Hermione said, entering the dormitory.

“He’s interviewing students, not playing Quidditch,” Harry said.

Harry mounted his Firebolt, opened the window, and flew out into the sunny morning. Ron followed, and most of the the Gryffindor Quidditch team gathered at the pitch. They practiced.

As the morning drew to a close, Ron led most of the team back up to the castle. Harry, meanwhile, felt hot and sweaty, but wasn’t ready to return, so he flew over to the edge of the lake, near the forest and landed. He removed his Quidditch Robes and put the robes with his broom on the ground. Harry took the few steps into the lake; the water had some bite, but he could tolerate it. Harry swam out, touched the remains of an old swimming platform, returned to the shore; he repeated this several times.

* * *

Friday morning, Harry’s testicles jostled as he returned to 26 Oak, his legs flexed as he ran up the stairs, and launched himself into the bed; Gia was still curled up on her side, the covers just in front of her. Harry laid on her, his hard cock and balls on her hip. His right hand slipped between the sheet, felt her breasts, while his left went across her back. He kissed her cheek.

Pfffpt!

“Good morning,” Harry said.

“Been only a half hour,” Gia said, “Besides, got school.”

“That’s not for an hour,” Harry said, “Got plenty of time.”

Harry’s right hand reached down, felt the string out of her vagina.

“Not now,” Gia said, “Tonight.”

Harry got off her, knelt next to her, reached down, raised her right leg with his right hand, while the left tugged at the string.

“Told ya,” Gia said as Harry pulled out the blood soaked tampon, “Be a sweetie, put a new one in.”

“After a shower,” Harry said.

Harry got off the bed, Gia followed, around the sharp corner into the bathroom. He put the used tampon into the rubbish, stepped into the shower, turned on the water. He pulled Gia in, worked the apple shampoo into her hair.

“Hope you don’t mind,” Richard said as he entered the bathroom, sat on the toilet.

“We were just showering,” Gia said, now lathering Harry up.

“Harry explained it,” Richard said, “That shower just does water, not flower petals.”

“I would’ve loved to have seen that,” Gia said to Harry.

“I’m sure the pictures are being published,” Harry said, “Richard here is one thing, I just wish it wasn’t _newsworthy_ when I’m taking a shower!”

Plunk!

“Be quick,” Richard said, using some toilet paper to wipe, “I need to shower too.”

“Safer here,” Harry said.

Richard stood up. “And you’re tempted to loiter,” Richard said as his hand shook his own genitals, “It is a school day.”

Harry and Gia finished washing and rinsing themselves. Harry turned off the water, handed her a towel, while grabbing one for himself. They returned to the bedroom; where Harry guided her back to laying on the bed, on her back. Harry straddled her, leaned down, brought his hard cock toward her.

“I told you, I don’t have the time,” Gia said, “Tonight, and, you need to put the new tampon in.”

Harry got off the bed, opened the top drawer to her dresser, and brought out the slender package. He pulled the wrapper. He knelt on the bed as Gia spread her legs apart.

“Like you would do with your dick,” Gia said.

Harry’s left fingers pulled her labia apart, while the right clumsily tried to insert it.

“Here,” Gia said, taking the tampon. She demonstrated inserting it. “There.”

“Bit too full now,” Harry said, wagging his hard erection.

“Like I said, tonight,” Gia said, “You need to get to school too.”

“Torture, waiting,” Harry said.

“You’ll manage,” Gia replied.

Harry grabbed his Portkey, his wand, and he activated it.

* * *

After breakfast, Harry, Ron, and Hermione went to the library to pass the time.

“I’m guessing we’re last,” Ron said.

“Likely,” Harry said.

“A little Quidditch to get the mind off of it,” Ron said.

“No!” Hermione said, “The _Minister for Magic_ is watching! I heard he wasn’t too pleased with your impromptu practice yesterday!”

“He gave us a load of free time,” Ron said, “What’d he expect? Study?”

“This is a _school_ Ronald,” Hermione said, “Of course he’d expect you to study.”

“Quidditch is sacred!” Ron replied.

“Of course it is,” Harry said.

“Thanks Harry,” Ron said.

Hermione glared.

“There is another way to pass the time,” Ron said, his eyes steadied themselves on Hermione.

“It’s the _library_!” Hermione said.

“Your wildest dream,” Ron said, “But, we’ll just bang quietly.”

Harry snickered.

“It’s not funny,” Ron said.

“Yes it is, go ahead,” Harry said, “I give you permission.”

“Harry!” Hermione quipped.

“If you want to be discreet, keep it in the restricted section,” Harry said.

“The restricted section it is!” Ron announced.

“No!” Hermione said.

“Later?” Ron asked.

Hermione remained mum.

“Feel my todger,” Ron said.

Hermione did reach, undid his zipper, and felt inward, at the hard erection beneath.

“Need me to toss you?” Hermione asked, sarcastically.

“Yeah, sure,” Ron said.

Hermione pulled the erection, brought it out of Ron’s trousers, so it was jutting outward above the edge of the chair. His foreskin slipped as her hand began to stroke. Harry moved back, glanced beneath the table, before he sat back up.

“Faster than arguing,” Hermione said to Harry.

“Yep,” Ron said. He could tell she was going for expediency, and that Hermione had the technique down. Quickly, Ron felt the tension build up and release, as his orgasm sent out his seed, and Ron relaxed. Hermione waited before grabbing a tissue and wiped; she stuffed the softening dick back into the trousers, and zippered them shut. “Thanks.”

“Ron now likes the library,” Harry said to Hermione.

“Hmph!” Hermione exclaimed.

“I feel better,” Ron said, “Thank you Hermione.”

They remained in the library, focused on reading. Harry and Ron worked on a couple of overdue essays until the mid morning bell.

“It’s time,” Harry said.

They packed up their bookbags, made to the fifth floor and approached the office as Dean Thomas came out.

“Where’ve you been?” Dean asked.

“They saved the best for last,” Ron said.

“That’s rich,” Dean said.

Harry led the way into the office.

“You’re late!” Minister Fallerschain snapped.

“Where’s Dumbledore—?” Harry asked.

“Unnecessary—” Minister Fallerschain said.

“We were told—” Harry protested.

“I AM running this show!” Minister Fallerschain said, “Unless you’re saying you’re guilty of something, you won’t need him. Mr. Ronald Weasley will be first—”

“Just start asking—” Ron said.

“Unless you intend to obstruct official Ministry business…” Minister Fallerschain said.

Ron followed Minister Fallerschain into an inner office. A solitary chair was beside the door, while a desk was on the other end of the office. Ron sat on the chair while Minister Fallerschain sat on the desk. With a flick of Minister Fallerschain’s yew wand, the door locked itself and shimmered for a moment. Another flick and the illumination in the office shifted and concentrated the light onto Ron, for Ron could no longer see Minister Fallerschain or the bare walls. A scratching of a quill onto parchment could be heard.

“A Quick Quotes Quill will be used,” Minister Fallerschain asked, “Will that be alright?”

“No,” Ron said.

However, the minister ignored this, the Quick Quotes Quill became active.

“For the record, state your full name, your date of birth, and describe your wand.”

“Ronald Bilius Weasley. March 1st, 1980. Fourteen inches, unicorn tail–hair in willow.”

“Do you have any friends?”

“Yes, Harry and Hermione.”

“When did you first meet them?” Minister Fallerschain asked.

“On my first train to Hogwarts,” Ron said, “How relevant is this?”

“Context,” the Minister said, “And I’d know how uncomfortable this makes everybody, so a bit of pleasantness before we get to the rest of the questions.”

“Oh,” Ron said.

“Five years ago, was an object of immense value was stored at Hogwarts?” the Minister asked.

It took Ron a moment.

“You mean the Philosopher’s Stone?” Ron asked.

“Yes, that,” Minister Fallerschain said, “Is it true that it was guarded?”

“Yes,” Ron said.

“How did he protect it?” the Minister asked.

“Traps,” Ron said, “We barely made it.”

“In a school?” the Minister asked.

“Yes,” Ron said.

“So, did the Headmaster value this object over the lives of the students that he’s been obligated to protect?” the Minister asked.

“Um…” Ron muttered.

“Now, for your second year,” the Minister said, “Did you or did you not fly a car into the Whomping Willow?”

“Yes,” Ron said, “Didn’t mean to, we lost power.”

“But the Headmaster elected not to expel you?” the Minister asked.

“It wasn’t his decision to make,” Ron asked.

“As Headmaster, it is always his decision,” the Minister said, “Who paid for the damages?”

* * *

“So you are saying that you deliberately helped Sirius Black escape?” Minister Fallerschain asked Harry, nearly an hour after his interview had started, which had followed Ron’s and Hermione’s half hour each.

“Sirius Black is innocent!” Harry stammered. Harry rubbed his forehead.

“I do not hold you to blame,” Minister Fallerschain said, “I’m sure that is what the Headmaster wanted you to believe.”

“He is!” Harry snapped.

“Just like him not holding you accountable when you slipped your name into the Goblet of Fire,” the Minister said.

“I didn’t do it,” Harry said.

“Sure, good thing the Headmaster bought that,” the Minister said, “What a shame he didn’t pull you out of the contest.”

“I had no choice!” Harry said, “It was a binding contract!”

“A contract that could have been satisfied by a little dueling contest,” the Minister said, “Declare a winner, and hold the rest of the festivities as a beauty contest. Fleur Delacour would have won, though I’m sure your Headmaster would have put a vote in for Cedric Diggory instead, that was a shame.”

“Cedric was murdered!” Harry said.

“Convenient way to win,” the Minister said.

“I did not!” Harry exclaimed.

“Of course not,” the Minister said, “A thousand Galleons says it was somebody else.”

“It was not me,” Harry said, “I need Professor Dumbledore.”

“No need to bother the Headmaster,” the Minister said, “Lets move on. It was nicely generous how the Headmaster nominated you to take credit with supposedly saving Hogwarts last term.”

“It was occupied,” Harry said, “We freed them.”

“Sure, an underage wizard?” the Minister said, “Doubtful, but good cover for the Headmaster’s own incompetence allowing for the situation to happen in the first place. Alas, the North Tower is no longer there.”

“Voldemort destroyed it!” Harry sputtered.

“Do not say his name!” the Minister scolded.

“Fear of a name—” Harry started.

“Just how many times have you been to the Hospital Wing, this term?” the Minister asked.

The interview continued for another half hour.

“I’m sorry if I was rough,” the Minister said, “Tough questions must be asked.”

“Whatever,” Harry said as he left the inner office.

“Thought he was about to kidnap you,” Ron said as they went into the corridor.

They went up, passed Peeves plugging gum into another door lock, and entered the Gryffindor Common room. Seamus and Parvati were snogging on the sofa.

“That was an interrogation, not an interview,” Harry complained, “Wouldn’t take _no_ for an answer.”

“Your fault for not taking an adult!” Seamus said as he glanced upward, “Quit your whining—he’s a great Minister! With this audit—he’s fantastic! We spent the time talking about Quidditch and the Falmouth Falcons—”

“He had it in for me—” Harry said.

“Just because you couldn’t exert your influence on him?” Seamus said, “In the two weeks on the job, he’s boosted donations to St. Mungo’s by fifty percent, slashed tons of Ministry waste. That waste will be used for research into better ways of fighting the Dark Arts!”

“Not only that,” Parvati said, “He’s banned Dark Arts shops from Diagon Alley and revoked the lease for Fun and Power. Rumor is that Knockturn Alley will be cleared out and called Diagon Lane.”

“That’s all good, but it doesn’t excuse his inquisition!” Harry said before he went up the stairs.

He entered the sixth year boys’ dormitory, Ron and Hermione followed.

“TERMITES!” yelled first year Ash, as he ran in, headed straight for Harry, “TERMITES!”

“Where?” Hermione asked.

“Wh…” Ash went silent, left the room.

“He’s as comfortable on a broom as you are,” Harry said to Hermione, “Unless he’s riding with me.”

“Fancy that,” Hermione said.

Harry rubbed his forehead.

“Good he left, that was a horrible _interview_ ,” Harry said, “This audit—fishier than fish and chips.”

“Efficiency is good,” Hermione said.

“Why the focus on us then?” Harry said, “Everybody else was five or ten minutes, me, over an hour. You heard Seamus, but also the Minister making a fuss about our wanting Dumbledore with us.”

“We do interact with Dumbledore more,” Ron said, “It just happens.”

“And Minister Fallerschain thinks of it as unhealthy,” Hermione said, “Like… like—”

“I’m not worth it,” Harry said.

“Don’t say that,” Ron said, “Dumbledore does have to spend more on security—”

“Favoring me—” Harry said.

“But none of the other students has a madman after him,” Hermione said.

“It felt personal,” Harry said, “Like he had it for me, that Dumbledore is spending too much on me for teachers, security, and medical.”

“You do cost more,” Hermione said, “Madam Pomfrey thinks you need a personal nurse in the infirmary. Demeantors were stationed around Hogwarts after Sirius escaped Azkaban, because of you. Professor Lupin said that Professor Tonks was hired just for you. So, it’s probably correct to say that Professor Dumbledore is spending more on you than others.”

“Great! We’ve got Voldemort after us all,” Harry said, “And the Minister’s concern is that we’re breaking the budget?”

“Something like that,” Hermione said, “And Parvati did have a point. This Minister Fallerschain has already made a bunch of improvements and he’s turned his attention to Hogwarts. Your name undoubtedly shows up on the ledgers, so that naturally gets his attention.”

“Any dirt on this Minister?” Harry asked, rubbing his scar, again.

“Skeeter’s found nothing so far,” Ron said, “So he’s clean—why?”

“Harry—” Hermione said, “Spit it out—you felt something—”

“Nothing significant,” Harry said, “Just a mild tingle—it was slight—”

“You’re scaring us—” Ron said.

“Like you’re expecting me to say I sneezed and my scar tingled!’ to Dumbledore!” Harry said, “If it sears like a hot poker, then I’ll tell him. Until then, it’s just my imagination—”

“Has it ever tingled before?” Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head.

“Give him a break—” Ron said, “It’s likely all that blood I gave him Tuesday—”

Harry snorted.

“Let’s just keep our minds open for now,” Harry said, “If it gets worse or continues, we’ll go to Dumbledore. In the meanwhile, though he seems a bastard, he is doing right.”

“Constant vigilance!” Ron stated.

Harry gave Ron a shove, and grabbed his Quidditch Robes.

“Good idea,” Ron said.

“And your universal answer to anything,” Hermione said.

“Life’s too short not to have Quidditch,” Ron said.

Harry stripped and put on the Quidditch Robes. Ron did the same.

“You’re flying starkers beneath those?” Hermione said.

“We’re always naked beneath our clothes,” Harry said, “Besides, I like the breeze.”

Harry mounted his Firebolt, opened the window, and flew out. A gale wind blew Harry to the side as he headed toward the Quidditch Pitch, the rain drenched his robes.

“Alright, maybe not this breezy,” Harry said as the wind kept his robes up, his buttocks exposed. His bare feet sank several inches into the waterlogged grass.

“You two are mad!” Josh Brenner said, coming along in the heavy rain to the Quidditch Pitch.

“Nobody else wanted to book the field,” Ron said.

“It’s pouring cats and dogs!” Ginny protested.

“We’ve played in worse,” Harry said, remembering his match during his third year.

“Like this does anything,” Ginny said, as the breeze blew her robes upward, exposing her bare buttocks.

“Ginny!” Ron protested.

“Like you’re wearing anything underneath either,” Ginny said, “We followed your example.”

One by one, they followed Ginny’s idea, to remove their Quidditch Robes, hang them underneath the stands. Colin even hung up his camera.

“At least they’ll be dry when we’re done,” Ginny said.

All eight stood there, naked, for a moment. Neither Justin nor Paul Prewett had any significant pubic hair, only a couple of small wafts. They got onto their brooms, flew upward.

“Okay, lets divy up, four on four,” Ron said.

“You and Harry different sides,” Ginny said.

“Okay,” Ron said.

They split up; Ginny went with Ron’s team, and Ron tossed up the Quaffle. Justin and Paul batted a Bludger between them. Their pink skin streaked the sky as they flew, their own balls tightly contracted.

“Have you seen the Snitch?” Ginny asked.

Harry glanced at her, right in front of him, bent over, her buttocks, her vagina bared at him.

“No!” Harry snapped.

Harry caught the glimpse of gold, flew over her, headed for the Snitch. He caught it.

“Nice coming in behind,” Ginny said.

“Stop staring at my arse!” Harry snapped.

Harry released the Snitch, as it was practice, not a game, and it flew off. They kept practicing until a greasy voice thundered.

“GET OUT OF THE RAIN!”

Professor Snape was there, glaring at the drenched team.

“Twenty five points each for trying to catch pneumonia,” Snape stated.

Harry was certain that Snape had forbade himself from showing his gloat. The rest of the team grabbed their Quidditch robes and headed for the castle. Harry, meanwhile, simply grabbed his robes and flew.

Water dripped from his bangs like a shower head as Harry flew. He didn’t like Snape breaking up a perfectly good practice, and he wasn’t ready to return to the castle. Despite the weather, he was hot and sweaty, so he flew over to the edge of the lake, near the forest and landed. He put his robes with his Firebolt on the ground. Harry took the few steps into the lake; the choppy water had some bite, but he could tolerate it. Harry swam out, touched the remains of an old swimming platform, returned to the shore; he repeated this several times.

“Good afternoon … Harry,” said Professor Dumbledore, holding fast on his cane. Professor Dumbledore’s garments were soaked.

Harry stepped out of the water. Harry fully aware that Professor Dumbledore could see everything, including his shrunken scrotum, but this did not feel uncomfortable in the least. Professor Dumbledore conjured up a towel, handed it over to Harry.

“Hello Professor,” Harry said as he dried himself, as futile as that was in the weather.

“A hundred years ago, … the small shower house … burned to the ground,” Professor Dumbledore said, “It turned out … to be a bit … of accidental magic, … from a poor boy … who shared my distaste … for compulsory swimming lessons.”

“Gia can swim, better than me,” Harry said, “Funny seeing you out here.”

“I am Headmaster,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I needed a break … from … duties. Funny running … into you here.”

“After Quidditch,” Harry said, “This seemed like the right idea.”

“No need to justify … enjoying your youth … Harry,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I was…”

Professor Dumbledore’s hand shook, the cane lost its footing on the slick ground, and the elderly wizard began to fall. Harry moved fast, arm around the back, caught him. Professor Dumbledore held onto Harry’s shoulder, though the grip was weak.

“Let’s get back,” Harry said.

“Hagrid’s,” Professor Dumbledore said.

Professor Dumbledore used his cane with his left hand, but his right hand held Harry’s shoulder, while Harry kept his grip on the man. Harry’s right hand summoned his robes, his Firebolt, and he carried those as they walked up the soggy hill, between the grass and the forest, coming to the small, familiar hut. Harry knocked, though there was no answer.

“Duties?” Harry asked.

Professor Dumbledore waved his wand, the door opened. They went in; Harry helped Professor down into one of the chairs already away from the table.

“Thank you … Harry,” Professor Dumbledore said.

Harry put his broom down onto the table, put his robes onto the table, leaned back against the table, unconcerned that his genitals were hanging out for the Professor to see, even with water still dripping from the foreskin.

“You have no shame,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Oh, these?” Harry asked, as he briefly jostled his wet testicles, “Dunno, kinda just happens. Like this summer.”

“It was well seen,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Gia and Hermione pranked me,” Harry said, “Caught on, and, well, makes me happy being starkers with Gia. I…” Harry blushed as his dick firmed up fast into a hard cock. “It’s what it is.”

“Obvious,” Professor Dumbledore said, twinkle in his eyes.

A wave from Professor Dumbledore’s wand, and they began to dry off as the fireplace roared to life, heating up the hut.

“I do love her,” Harry said, “I… it’d be easy to perform the Patronus charm, something I struggled with my third year.”

“Then, it is good?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“Yes,” Harry said.

Harry paced.

“I am happy … for you,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Take last night,” Harry said, “I worked her pussy, in the park, in front of others. We were naked, but it felt _right_ to do it there. I didn’t care, she didn’t care, and we didn’t mind those other boys witnessing the truth, that I love Gia and she loves me. I…” Harry paused for a moment, leaned back. “Sorry, my dick’s getting too excited thinking about it. Hiding it, hiding us, doesn’t feel right, so yeah, I’m naked with her.”

“Do learn to put on some clothes Mr. Potter,” Professor McGonagall said, entering Hagrid’s hut, “It’s not—”

“Leave Mr. Potter be,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Sorry to disappoint you Mr. Potter but you are not Madam Pomfrey’s most difficult patient,” Professor McGonagall said, handing over a flask to Professor Dumbledore, “Albus, you do not have time for this—”

“Enjoying a nice day … is never a waste of … time,” Professor Dumbledore said. He made a face of disgust as he sipped the flask. “Make tea.”

Harry wondered about the Headmaster thinking this was a nice day.

“Um…” Harry turned and reached for Hagrid’s kettle, his penis had softened and his back was momentarily toward them.

“You know you need to drink that without tea,” Professor McGonagall said to Professor Dumbledore.

“What is that you’re drinking?” Harry asked.

“Antidote,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Unfortunately, … it is not a cure.”

“Albus!” Professor McGonagall said, “We had agreed it best to not mention this to others.”

“I believe that…Harry deserves the … truth,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I am dying.”

“What?!” Harry stammered, “You can’t die!”

“Relax,” Professor Dumbledore said, “It will take … some time. You … of all people … know it happens. … Some refuse to accept it … I have. Muggle superstition … we consume children to … steal youth. Maybe … some truth … as a teacher … students infuse me with time.”

“How?” Harry asked.

“Last term when You–Know–Who captured the castle,” Professor McGonagall said, “He poisoned Albus, and it was a dark poison. There is no known cure.”

“Bezoar?” Harry asked.

“That will not work for this,” Professor McGonagall said, “If we were to suspend, to freeze Albus, until a cure can be found—”

“No!” Professor Dumbledore said, “Harry does not have … the time.”

“Me?” Harry said, “Can’t anything be done for Professor Dumbledore? How long has he got?”

“Potions retard the progression, but it is one way,” Professor McGonagall said, “A year, two, maybe even three, we do not know because most go mad before they can be helped.”

“I didn’t realize,” Harry said, “I mean, I noticed the cane, just thought he was finally getting old.”

“Thank you,” Professor Dumbledore said, eyes twinkled.

“As Deputy Headmistress,” Professor McGonagall said, “I am now shouldering his duties.”

“Oh,” Harry uttered.

“Do not discuss this,” Professor McGonagall said, “As you understand the urgency, Albus has chosen to spend his remaining time helping _you_ Mr. Potter. Clearly you acknowledge that You–Know–Who will visit you again at some point.”

“Seems guaranteed,” Harry said.

“And Albus wants you to succeed, even at the cost is his own life,” Professor McGonagall said, “So, be ready.”

“I need to tell Ron and Hermione this,” Harry said.

“They—” Professor McGonagall said.

“Tell them,” Professor Dumbledore said, interrupting.

“That is as far as the news is to go, understood?” Professor McGonagall said, “Regardless of what happens at Hogwarts, that sort of news would undermine us.”

“Yes,” Harry said.

“Now you can use the gap in your schedule for some needed study, Mr. Potter,” Professor McGonagall said.

“Yes Professor,” Harry said.

Harry grabbed his Firebolt and his Quidditch robes, left the hut.

“He did not bother to get dressed!” Professor McGonagall said, “I’ll be right back.”

“Let him be,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“He walked out of here with his privates uncovered and on full display!” Professor McGonagall said, “It’s unhealthy and inappropriate!”

“If he otherwise behaves,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Let him be, it’ll make him stronger.”

“I do not understand your reasoning,” Professor McGonagall said.

“Protect his friendships,” Professor Dumbledore said, “At all costs, … protect them.”


	21. Tango

Gusts blew Harry side to side, he entered through the window into the sixth year boys dormitory. Water dripped from every part of Harry, he dropped his soaked Quidditch robes to the floor. Ron watched the naked Harry enter the other shower stall.

“I tried talking Hermione into here,” Ron said, beneath the hot pouring water, routing the heat to go over his testicles, “She didn’t see the point as she wasn’t wet.”

“Try talking her into the Prefect’s bathroom,” Harry said as he lathered up.

“We’re not Prefects,” Ron said.

“Then only the Prefects can watch you bang, nobody else,” Harry said, his hand working the suds in his pubic hair.

“Don’t know the password,” Ron said.

“So?” Harry said, “Borrow the map if you have to.”

“Maybe after practice tomorrow,” Ron said.

“I’ll be skipping it,” Harry said.

“Practice is in the morning,” Ron said.

“Don’t pull a Wood,” Harry said, “Gia kinda got spooked, so I need to charm her, so it’s a date tonight and more fun over for the weekend.”

“You know the rules,” Ron said, “It’s not supposed to interfere with your studies.”

“And you heard Madam Pomfrey,” Harry said, “I’m not supposed to be practicing Quidditch until Monday.”

“Think we need a talk with Dumbledore on this,” Ron said, walking to leave the shower. Harry followed, both starkers.

“Like that?” Harry asked as Ron reached for the door, “Besides, he’d be on board with this; McGonagall too.”

“You’ve included her on this?” Ron asked.

Harry pushed Ron against the wall, leaned in close, Ron’s dick pushed into Harry’s black pubic hair.

“Dumbledore is dying,” Harry whispered.

“What?!” Ron stammered.

“Don’t tell Hermione, not yet,” Harry whispered, “Last spring was rough, really rough; the old man has a year, maybe three.”

“Have they consulted—how can they be certain?” Ron replied.

“Dumbledore accepts his fate, wants to focus his efforts on the fight,” Harry replied, “Professor McGonagall is effectively Headmistress, though Dumbledore is retaining the title until the end.”

“What if, what if Dumbledore goes first?” Ron asked.

“Don’t think about it,” Harry said, “Anyways, I have to dash.”

Harry went over to his trunk, fingered his Portkey, and activated it. Harry landed in Gia’s bedroom; the bed was empty, though a bottle green dress laid on it. Harry went out of the bedroom, went to Richard’s bedroom, where Jen was inking bit of pastel orange to the canvas.

“Gia’s in the basement,” Jen said, as her eyes flickered to his loose intact penis dangling there.

“Ta,” Harry said.

Harry went down the steps, found Snuffles laying in front of the fireplace. Harry squatted, petted the ears, belly. Snuffles yipped.

“Gia and I’ll be going out,” Harry said, “There’s a show in London she wants to see.”

Harry stood up, went down the next flight of steps, into the laundry room where Gia was busy with the sewing machine. A nice pair of jet black tuxedo trousers were on it, as she stitched. Harry leaned over from her backside, slid his hands down her bare chest, felt the knockers.

“Do you mind?” Gia said, “I need to concentrate on these alterations.”

“What’s wrong with them?” Harry said, “They fit alright…wish they were like Madam Malkin’s.”

“In a way, it will be,” Gia said, “It’ll be a few more minutes, I still need to iron in the creases.”

“Didn’t realize you knew how to sew,” Harry said.

“I dreaded the lessons Mum taught me, got her to stop them,” Gia said, “Wish I hadn’t now, but I was young then, just a kid, I didn’t realize she’d soon be gone. This is the first time I’ve used those lessons since she passed.”

Harry kissed her on the cheek, left the room, returned back up the stairs, through the living room, and up again. He entered the bedroom; laid his wand onto the bed, and grabbed his wallet from the dresser.

“On second thought,” Harry said to Hedwig as he grabbed his wand, “You keep an eye on this.” Harry went to her perch, shoved the wand into the hiding place, the branch was hollow and his wand fit snugly within.

Harry sat on the bed. He’d rather go naked with her, than do anything else, however, they were heading to London, and Harry figured it was best not to push his luck. Harry couldn’t fathom why Kristen’s police would let him, but Harry was accustomed to taking advantage of it, however, that was Noigate, Harry didn’t have such friends in London, and London was where Gia wanted to go. Also, Harry didn’t want trouble in London, not when he was a student at Hogwarts, and would be expected to be staying in Scotland, if he were an ordinary student, but unfortunately, he wasn’t ordinary.

“Ready?” Gia asked, coming into the bedroom, “Try these on.” She handed over the hanger holding his tuxedo.

Harry put the white dress shirt on, felt a bit of breeze on the front, where the front hem had been raised, giving more clearance to his genitals.

“You didn’t like it?” Harry asked as he buttoned the shirt up.

“I did,” Gia said, “May need another tuxedo for other occasions when this won’t do.”

“I’ll look into it,” Harry said as he grabbed the trousers. One leg into the other, he brought the waist band up, went for the zipper, but that had been removed, sewn over. “I kinda need that.”

“No you don’t,” Gia said, “My mother likely could have done it better and kept the zipper.”

“No, no, it’ll do,” Harry said, wondering if he should dash back to Hogwarts for his regular school trousers, the ones that had been modified by Madam Malkin.

Harry pushed his genitals between his legs as he pulled the trousers over them; it was tight, yet, breezy. Gia reached forward, into a new lace–lined hole in the front of his trousers, pulled his todger and bollocks out. Harry suddenly understood the purpose behind Gia’s alterations, her mind was thinking dirty, and he loved her for it, as his cock and balls dangled freely in front. His balls felt the same heat his thighs were, loosened.

“Handwarmers,” Gia said, “Best I could do.”

“It’ll work,” Harry said.

A quick glance at the mirror confirmed that his dick and balls were hanging freely. It felt better than Madam Malkin’s alterations; those simply gave the illusion, whereas with this, his privates were clearly unsupported. However, a hint of nerves, butterflies, went up as he studied his dick; this wasn’t being naked, however, the contrast between the black and his pink skin advertised his balls and dick, more so than simply being naked. And her handwarmers meant nothing would try to pull back in.

“Good,” Gia said as she attached an bottle green clip–on bow tie to Harry’s shirt.

Harry realized that Gia wanted them to match, his tie to her dress. She took the bottle dress, pulled it over her; revealing where the short dress was also altered around her crotch; her entire shaved vagina, from the clitoris, to the lace of her labia peeked out from the carefully crafted hole. Harry definitely understood her message.

“Ready?” Harry asked as he put on the jacket over his shirt.

“Shoes,” Gia said.

Harry put on black socks, and the polished black shoes; he put his wallet into his jacket pocket, put the top hat onto his head, and they went out of the bedroom.

“Can I see?” Jen asked.

Harry and Gia went into the bedroom. Harry adjusted his cuffs, while Jen checked them out. Gia stood there, with the low cut to her strapless dress, without a bra, so the erect nipples showed just below the hem of the emerald cloth. Jen glanced at Harry’s freely hanging loose testicles.

“You’re the first person I’m advising that a thong might go with your tuxedo,” Jen said.

“It’s deliberate,” Gia said.

“I figured _that_ ,” Jen said, “Have fun.”

Harry and Gia went out, down the steps, and left the house. Harry quickly came to appreciate the handwarmers with the stiff breeze and light drizzle beneath the dark clouds above; his balls and todger stayed warm and loose. He felt his balls hitting against the heat as they walked; he smiled as it felt good. They passed several people, who gave them funny looks.

“Guess they’re not used to seeing this,” Gia said, “I mean, we’re just going to the theater.”

“Can we skip to the end?” Harry asked.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Gia said, “I mean, of course it’s fun, but you’ll find this more fun, I promise.”

They came to the station for the express train, went onto the northbound platform. They stood. Harry moved her hand to rest his soft todger in it.

“Aim,” Harry said.

Gia quickly understood, aimed his penis, before she noticed a younger girl staring at them. Harry, though, had already relaxed his muscles, and he peed. Gia moved the penis back and forth, drew a wet scribble on the pavement; the other girl smiled, watched, as Harry kept peeing. It wasn’t until the train pulled into the station that Harry realized that he had done it again, his magic had made sure he’d perform for Gia, however, Harry figured it was best not to piss on the train, concentrated to cancel the accidental charm. Gia let the dick down as he stopped; however, the other girl grinned as Harry’s todger sought even more attention and began to rapidly stiffen. Harry’s hard erection jutted outward, away from the very loose testicles, as he and Gia boarded the train. Harry and Gia found a pair of seats that faced each other without a table; he sat, let the bollocks hang over the edge, and leaned back.

“Don’t toss,” Gia said as Harry’s hand neared his hard cock.

Harry sat up.

“Just do it here,” Harry said.

“No,” Gia said, “I want us to act civilized until the end.”

“Torture,” Harry said, “I can see—” his eyes focused on the clitoris, the vagina, peeking out from the bottle green cloth, “Besides, you matched the colors! Except my dick, of course!”

Gia moved, sat next to Harry, the brim of his hat bumped against her head. Her fingers tickled his scrotum, over his testicles.

“I matched your eyes because that’s the color I see every time I look at you,” Gia said, “I’m not showing my kitty, not showing your cock, to offend, but because I felt we needed it. I want you to be tempted, I want to see that you’re tempted—” she fingered his foreskin “—and I want you to resist the urge until the end. Toy, tease, as we like to do, just wait to use it—you seem a bit fidgety.”

“You’re tormenting Harry,” Harry said, “Clear, obvious, and nobody’ll miss it, because this—” he pointed to his exposed penis “—thought going naked was advertising my dick, nope, this is. It stands out because you took the thong out of the tuxedo.”

“You hate it?” Gia asked.

“No, no!” Harry said, “Just get up on the seat a bit more.”

“The end!” Gia said, “At the end of the night, because you’ll get wrinkles into that tuxedo!”

“Oh,” Harry muttered. His hard cock promptly shrunk, softened.

Gia snickered. “You’re funny.” Gia leaned over, kissed Harry on the cheek. “I just need the night, alright?”

“What else are you going to alter?” Harry asked.

“Dunno,” Gia replied.

“Just don’t do my school clothes, alright?” Harry said, “I need to hide it then.”

“Alright, alright, no to the school clothes,” Gia said, “Won’t need them otherwise.”

“Fine by me,” Harry replied.

* * *

Meanwhile, Ron loitered in the dormitory after Harry vanished. He had questions for Professor Dumbledore, but Ron wasn’t certain how to bring it up, because starting off with the terminal prognosis wasn’t a very good way to start any conversation. Sure, Ron knew that Dumbledore was old, over a hundred fifty,1 however, the mere thought that Dumbledore would die had seem abstract, but now, its more certain to be now, not some far distant future.

“You’re naked Weasley!” Seamus shouted as the door opened.

“Can’t figure that out for myself,” Ron retorted, “Piss off!”

“Fred said you knew the way to sneak out of the castle,” Ginny said, following Seamus into the room, “I wanted some Butterbeer.”

“Firewhiskey,” Seamus said.

“Like I was even planning to get dressed,” Ron said, irritated.

“Oh, her,” Seamus said, “Assuming she’s not too busy, seen her with a couple of first years.”

“Likely tutoring,” Ron said. He hadn’t really thought about it, but Hermione would be one to tutor.

“As she tutors you, I’m sure,” Seamus said.

“Please,” Ginny said, “It’s a weekend, some butterbeer would be great!”

“Look, do this and…” Seamus thought for a moment. “We’ll clear out the common room, after curfew, so you and her can do whatever, uninterrupted, by the fireplace. Guess you like the heat.”

“You should try it,” Ginny said to Seamus.

“You’ll clear it out?” Ron asked.

“Yeah,” Seamus said.

“Okay,” Ron said, “You two are coming with me, so I don’t have to haul it all back myself.”

Ron found his T–shirt and plaid overshirt; put those on. Ginny and Seamus watched as Ron pulled his boxers over his left foot.

“Hold,” Seamus said, “Ginny, see it?”

“I’ve seen his todger more times than I’d like!” Ginny said.

“It gets the job done,” Ron said, pulling the boxers up. He found the blue jeans in his trunk, put those on. Socks and shoes, Ron grabbed his backpack before he went over to Harry’s trunk.

“Doubling up on Harry’s clothes?” Seamus asked.

“No, family secret,” Ginny said, pushing in next to Ron as he pulled out the piece of parchment, “That’s a family heirloom.”

“If it’s anybody’s family heirloom, it’s Harry’s,” Ron said, “If anything, Fred and George returned it to its rightful heir.”

Ron took out his wand, held it to the map.

“I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good!” Ron exclaimed.

“Watch out for Professor Snape.” Ginny pointed to where Professor Snape was in relation to the statue of the one eyed witch.

“You two plotting?” Seamus asked.

“Yes,” Ron said, turning around.

Ron’s sneakers hit the floor as he walked out of the dormitory, clutching the map. Ginny and Seamus followed, out of Gryffindor Tower, down flights of stairs, until they came to a short ways away from the one eyed witch. Professor Snape was still paroling.

“Remember, Firewhiskey!” Seamus said to Ron. Seamus walked fast before he broke into a run.

“Stop!” Professor Snape barked as Seamus ran past. Professor Snape chased after Seamus, wand drawn.

Ginny and Ron moved to the statue, consulted the map, and whispered the password. The statue moved and they went in.

“Harry should have come with us,” Ginny said.

“Why?” Ron said, “It’s not like he’s wanting Butterbeer or Firewhiskey right now.”

“Where is he?” Ginny asked.

“He’s…busy,” Ron replied as they made their way toward Honeydukes.

* * *

Harry caught the eyes as he and Gia strolled through Waterloo station, along the platform, down the escalator, toward the underground. While most of the people seemed to ignore, a handful smirked, grinned, or frowned as the eyes met his crotch. Hairs on his swaying loose balls visible, his foreskin undecided to let a bit of his glans peek out as it bounced around in a partially aroused state, all seemingly disembodied as they stood out against the dark jet black cloth of his tuxedo trousers. Harry felt naughty in this, as it was not a simple accident, it wasn’t even walking around starkers, but instead, it was deliberate because Gia wanted to see them dangle. Still, despite keeping public areas private and making his privates public, Harry enjoyed the feeling and Gia’s smiles having already settled his nerves.

“Here it is,” Harry said as they came to the platform, they ran to get onto the train.

“Mind the gap,” came the announcement.

The doors closed. Gia sat, while Harry held onto the hand rail and stood in front of her.

“Hmmm…” Gia said, her eyes on Harry’s crotch, not his top hat.

Gia’s hands surrounded his testicles, took the taps as the train’s jostling moved them around. Several others on the train watched as his dick stiffened up, the erection jutting outward. Gia blew across it. Harry let his eyes lock on, stare at her clitoris, showing, as it drew his attention away from the onlookers, as Gia was the whole point of this little trip. Harry had no shame in letting their love show. Gia coaxed his foreskin into staying retracted as the train came to a halt at their stop.

“This way,” Harry said.

Gia followed, they held hands, as they went up the escalator, onto the streets, where Harry wished he had more handwarmers; his balls were nice and warm, while his face was getting cold. They walked, taking a small road, to a building, where they went down a couple of flights of stairs, to the simple door; Harry turned the knob, it opened, and they went in. Inside, a small lobby, the interior door marked Nightingale Venus , and a tall man there.

“ID and tickets?” the man asked.

Harry reached into his pocket, took out his wallet, handed both fake IDs over to the man, along with their tickets.

“Enjoy the evening,” the man said, giving back their IDs and the ripped bottom halves of their tickets. “Dinner starts at seven thirty, the show at eight.” The man ignored Harry’s hard erection, but instead, opened the door; Harry and Gia went in, the slow and steady beat of the waltz music met their ears.

Inside were three terrace levels of tables, and a stage above the lowest tier; only a couple of steps were between each, enough to let one tier see over the heads of the next in order to watch the small stage. Harry and Gia found their table on the middle tier that matched their ticket stubs.

“And so we wait until seven?” Harry asked, as he ignored another couple waltzing on the stage.

“Think they mean this,” Gia said, pulling Harry’s hand. They went to the stage, up the steps, onto it. She held Harry’s hands, faced him.

“Oh,” Harry said, pulling her close. His hard cock tapped her vagina, began to push inward.

“Save it,” Gia said, as his dick began to sink in, “Tease, tease, until the end!”

Harry pulled out, let it touch, though, as Gia started to lead him in the dance.

“You altered my tuxedo,” Harry said, “Took the thong out.”

“You’re mature enough to handle it, right?” Gia asked.

“Sure,” Harry quipped.

“By the way, it’s dance, dinner, show, and dance until we’re ready to leave,” Gia said, “So, make you a promise; if you eat dinner, you can use it.”

“Holding out?” Harry asked.

“You need to eat,” Gia said, “I don’t like holding back, but if sex motivates you to take care of yourself, realize I’m doing it because I do love you, I do care about you, so if you need help, I’ll help.”

“I figured that part out already,” Harry said, dryly.

“Besides,” Gia said, holding his balls, “No chaffing.”

“There is that,” Harry admitted.

* * *

“Where’d you get that?” Ron asked a bit later as Ginny handed over Galleons to Madam Rosmerta in the Three Broomsticks .

“You’d expect me to work in Fred and George’s shop for nothing?” Ginny said, “They paid me. Besides, the Firewhiskey money came from Seamus.”

Quickly, they shuffled the beverages, including the cases of Firewhiskey, into the backpack; and they returned to Honeydukes. Ginny loaded up with treats, and they slipped back into the basement, into the passageway, and headed back to the castle. Ron took out the map, and they saw Seamus leaving Professor Snape’s office in the dungeon. Ginny tapped the back of the statue, they got out onto the third floor corridor.

“Dare I ask why you need a backpack Mr. Weasley?” Professor Lupin asked.

“No,” Ron said.

“Good,” Professor Lupin said.

“Just a few supplies for tomorrow’s Quidditch practice,” Ron said.

“Dedication is good in a Quidditch Captain,” Professor Lupin said, “Behave.”

Professor Lupin left.

“He’s onto you,” Ginny said.

“And he decided to leave it be,” Ron said.

Ginny and Ron returned to the Gryffindor Tower.

“Got it?” Seamus asked, catching up to pass through the portrait hole just after Ron and Ginny.

“How bad was it?” Ginny asked.

“Ten points and a detention,” Seamus said, “Best be worth it.”

Ron placed his backpack on the table next to where Hermione was sitting.

“You did, didn’t you!” Hermione said to Ron.

“They asked,” Ron said, “Lets have some fun.”

“Hmph!” Hermione sputtered.

Seamus, though, pulled out the top case of Firewhiskey, set it onto the table. Hermione glared at Ron, gathered her things.

“You’re welcome in on the fun too,” Seamus said to Hermione.

“I can only imagine what that’ll be,” Hermione said.

Seamus, though, grabbed the case of Firewhiskey.

“Join us,” Seamus said to Ron.

“I’ll see you later,” Ron said to Hermione, “Bedtime?”

Hermione grinned.

Ron followed Seamus, up the stairs, into the sixth year boys’ dormitory. Inside were Neville, Dean, and Ernie Macmillan.

“He’s Hufflepuff,” Ron said.

“I invited him,” Seamus said, “Besides, I figured Harry is being Harry, hiding wherever he likes to hide. Where is he?”

“Busy, I suppose,” Ron replied, knowing he couldn’t divulge that Harry’s with his girlfriend.

Seamus pulled out the rest of the cases of Firewhiskey, stacking them in two stacks of five each.

“Okay, the game is called Truth or Dare ,” Seamus said, holding a bottle.

“You’re stocked up,” Ernie said.

“Yeah, not planning on ten tonight,” Seamus said, “A case at most.” He popped the top. “One swig, each.” Seamus took a chug, passed the bottle to Dean.

“Rules?” Ernie asked as he took a swig.

“One drink per round,” Seamus said, “Either answer the question or strip something off. If you refuse to answer, we won’t ask again. Sound good?”

They nodded.

“And if you’re stripped naked?” Ernie asked.

“We’ll figure something out, a dare,” Seamus said, “First question, for everybody, are you a virgin, and I’m talking real sex, not your imagination.”

Laughter.

“No,” Ron said.

Cheers.

“And for the record, he’s been caught several times,” Seamus said, “So yeah, I can vouch for _that_. I’m not either.”

“Nor me,” Ernie said.

“No,” Dean said.

“Um…” Neville muttered.

“No shame,” Ron said, “Are you or are you not?”

“I…” Neville uttered.

“He is,” Dean said.

“Yes or no, or take off—your shirt,” Seamus said to Neville.

Neville removed his shirt, sat on his trunk.

“So, where is Harry?” Neville asked Ron.

“Not saying,” Ron replied.

“Strip, all the way,” Seamus said.

Ron removed his shirt, pulled his shoes off.

“Thought it was one article,” Ernie said.

“It is, except that’s the biggest mystery of this room,” Seamus said.

“It’s none of your business,” Ron replied.

“But it is, we sleep here,” Seamus said, “And Harry’s bed, always empty, yet, you’re able to get him on a whim, if you want to.”

“Don’t have to put up with Harry’s night terrors,” Dean said.

“Okay, there is that,” Seamus said, while Ron quickly stripped to stand naked, “Though don’t be surprised if Ron snuggles up to Harry.”

“Harry seems straight to me,” Ernie said, “Even brings his girlfriend from time to time.”

“Convenient, where’s he hiding her?” Seamus asked.

“Not saying,” Ron said, “That’s off–limits, alright?”

“Yeah, sure,” Seamus said.

“No repeats, remember?” Dean said to Seamus, “Who’d you first bang?”

* * *

Harry flexed his hips a bit, still on the stage, letting the tip of his glans touch Gia’s clitoris in the gap of her bottle green dress. The darkened room was now crowded, nearly every table full. A spotlight operator had trained the light onto Harry’s hard cock as the glans slipped into her. He dragged it for the length of her vulva, pulled out, and kissed her. Plates started to chim as wait staff started to bring plates to the tables.

“Time to eat,” Gia whispered.

“Yeah, suppose so,” Harry replied as he adjusted his wide brimmed hat.

Harry took no effort to hide his happy middle digit, the hard cock stood proud as they walked down the steps, came to their table. Gia held Harry’s balls as they sat down at the same time; she gently lowered them over the edge of his seat, letting them rest against the wood as they hung there beneath the hard erection. Gia moved so they were facing each other across the table as the hors d’oeuvres were delivered. Gia adjusted her dress, pushing the low cut front down, until her boobs hung out over the hem.

“I’ll keep these out so long as you eat,” Gia said, “Alright?”

She reached back underneath the small table, held his hard cock.

“You really mean it,” Harry said.

“Of course,” Gia said.

“Keep this up and—my todger is really liking this,” Harry said, “It’s liable to—you wanted to wait.”

Gia understood, pulled back, held his balls.

“I do like this, by the way,” Harry said as he grabbed the sliver of peanut butter smeared chicken on a stick, nibbled.

“Figured you would,” Gia said.

Gia’s hands kept cradling his loose balls; she leaned forward, letting the breasts rest on the table to either side of the hors d’oeuvres plate. Harry’s eyes stayed on the food, he kept nibbling, and stared at her as he ate.

* * *

“How often do you have sex with Hermione?” Neville asked Ron.

All five of them were naked at this point, with Ernie sitting on Harry’s closed trunk.

“Once every several days,” Ron said, “Wish it were more often, but it’s Hermione we’re talking about. Usually, she’d rather study than have sex—I talk her into it more often than not.”

“So, how often does Harry have sex?” Seamus asked.

“As often as he can manage,” Ron said, “Surprised if a day goes by that they don’t have sex.”

“How often is he with her?” Ernie asked.

“Not saying,” Ron said.

“That calls for a dare,” Dean said, taking another swig of the Firewhiskey, “Kiss my dick.”

“Every dick,” Ernie said.

“French kiss,” Seamus said.

“What they said,” Dean said, “How often, or pucker up.”

Dean stood and stumbled over, waited in front of Ron. Ron saw the ebony skin, the pink glans hanging at the end of the circumcised penis attached to the pudgy belly.

“Pucker up Weasley!” Seamus said.

Ron lifted the small digit, brought the tip to his lips.

“In! In!” Ernie chanted.

Ron opened his mouth, let the head slip in, and the tongue worked the toughened glans.

Keep…steady…” Dean said.

Ron tasted the bitterness of the fast jet, the salty juice poured from the slit within his mouth. Ron gagged before letting it flow down the hatch.

“You’re pissing!” Seamus exclaimed.

“Easier than the floor,” Dean replied.

“Don’t spill it,” Ernie said.

“Dean likes it,” Neville said as Dean’s shaft began to stiffen, “Yep.”

Dean pulled back fast.

“Need to piss, I’m next,” Seamus said, coming over.

Seamus placed his circumcised pink tip onto Ron’s tongue, and Ron pulled it in. Ron had barely started to lick, to taste, as the slit unleashed, this time, a bit sweeter than Dean’s had been, which made it taste a bit better than the Firewhiskey.

“Harry’s missing all the fun,” Ernie said.

“Likely,” Ron replied.

* * *

Harry sipped at the wine while Gia held a different cup beneath his soft penis. He was about to pee when some applause interrupted, and they both turned to glance at the stage. A large man, in a yellow suit, stood there.

“Welcome to Nightingale Venus, where every night is formal night,” the man said, “For tonight’s performance, I welcome Amos Presley, known the Oracle from Melbourne Australia. Lets give him a hand.”

The man led a simple applause as the large, tall, figure came out from behind the curtain. Covered in latex, an oversized condom; form fitting to the sculpting of his body, except for the face sticking out of a cutout and the arms, the Oracle came to the front.

“Welcome, welcome,” the twenty year old Oracle said, “And I approve safe sex.”

Laughter.

“And, I thought I was being brave,” the Oracle said, “Instead, I saw a young man in the audience even more brave than me, let him come up here.”

The man’s finger pointed right at Harry.

“Go up,” Gia said, as the spotlight shined on Harry standing up.

Harry trotted, along the steps.

“He’s definitely got the balls,” the Oracle said.

Harry climbed up onto the stage.

“I normally do this show solo,” the Oracle said, “However, an assistant makes it easier. Mind?”

Harry shrugged. The Oracle moved Harry to face forward, the spotlights focused on Harry. Everybody’s eyes trained on Harry, standing there with a top hat on the head, tuxedo jacket, the bottle green bow tie, black all the way down that matched the jet black hair, except for the flesh pink foreskin shrouded penis and testicle filled scrotum hanging out of the fabric for all to see.

“Look at this young man,” the Oracle said, “Nice and respectable, except for—” he reached down, wiggled Harry’s penis. “Interesting choice.”

“Gia’s idea,” Harry replied.

“Your wife?” the Oracle asked.

“Girlfriend,” Harry said.

“She’s got good taste, do we all agree?” the Oracle said, “Lights.”

Harry felt the heat of the spotlights focusing tightly onto his todger and balls. The Oracle held, fondled, and displayed Harry’s genitals to the crowd. A drop of liquid came off his foreskin.

“Need to pee?” the Oracle asked.

“Yes,” Harry said.

“This is gorgeous,” the Oracle said, “We need a towel and a glass.”

A towel and a glass was brought over; the towel laid out in front of Harry, while the cup was held just beneath.

“Bet you put a smile on everybody who’s seen it tonight,” the Oracle said, “That’s a lot of smiles.”

“It got noticed,” Harry replied.

Harry gripped his dick, retracted his foreskin. It took a moment more than usual, as he felt some tension, but less so than an exam with Madam Pomfrey. Everybody watched as the amber sputtered, began to pour out; the light refracted, sent rainbow shards around the room. Harry tapped his dick against the glass, pulled it out, and flexed it around.

“You may be wondering about this,” the Oracle said.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“You might’ve been taught to hide,” the Oracle said, “That it’s ugly—it’s not. I’m not just talking about yours, but everybody has beauty in them. That includes your handsome penis, which I’m grateful you’re letting show, your girlfriend, right?”

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“May his girlfriend come up here?” the Oracle asked.

“Gia,” Harry said.

Gia had already restored her dress, came up, her clitoris, the shaved labia, readily visible.

“And your name?” the Oracle asked Harry.

“Um…” Harry stuttered. He had already slipped with Gia’s name, but that’s more common.

“Sparky,” Gia replied.

“So Sparky,” the Oracle said, “You’re both at least twenty one?”

“Um…yes,” Harry said, figuring it was better to go what his fake ID claimed.

“And neither of you were thinking about having sex?” the Oracle asked.

“No,” Harry replied.

“I believe you as much as my parents believed my brother,” the Oracle said, “Many years ago, he was caught starkers beneath the covers with this girl from school. I was six at the time so I learned that a good gynecology exam requires things to be well glazed.”

Laughter.

“She wanted to keep an eye on me,” Harry said.

“She has good taste in you Sparky,” the Oracle said, “So she has you by your bollocks?”

Gia reached over, held the balls.

“I guess that’s a yes,” Harry replied.

Harry’s penis soaked in the attention, promptly stiffened.

“You love her,” the Oracle said.

“Yep,” Harry said, without hesitation.

Gia removed her hand, the hard erection jutting forward.

“And you love him?” the Oracle asked.

“Yes,” Harry said.

“How would you describe his bollocks?” the Oracle asked.

“Handsome, nice, plump,” Gia said, her fingers teased them, “They work.”

“You have verified this, no doubt,” the Oracle said.

“We can check, again,” Harry offered.

Laughter.

“Offering?” the Oracle asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, stepping close to Gia, he pushed his tip against the slit of her vagina.

“Where’s your condom?” the Oracle asked, pulling Harry back.

“I’m on the pill,” Gia said, “It’s guaranteed to work.”

“Guarantee or warranty, it doesn’t matter, because you’ll be the one changing the nappies,” the Oracle said, “So, stay up here until the finale, let us admire your beauty, together.”

“Now, how many of you have ever been to the zoo?”

A show of hands.

“Here we have an example of a human male and a human female, both in heat,” the Oracle said.

* * *

Hermione was laying in her knickers on her four poster when Parvati and Lavender came in; both of those two were still dressed. Curfew had already passed, the flickering candles shone against the dark window.

“Why are you not with somebody else?” Parvati asked.

“Why would I?” Hermione said, “I’m trying to read.”

“Maybe it burns too much?” asked Padma, entering.

“What burns?” Hermione asked.

“You heard her,” Lavender said.

“What?!” Hermione stammered as Padma and Parvati held her down. “Ron’ll be here—”

“He’s too inebriated with Firewhiskey to be bother,” Lavender said, “I even saw him sucking cock.”

“Harry’s not here,” Hermione protested.

“It wasn’t Harry’s,” Lavender said, “I suppose you need to find one before Ron takes a real interest in you.”

Hermione’s bra and panties were torn off her; she was turned over. Padma’s fingers went through the brown carpet of pubic hair.

“I can’t see the lice,” Padma said.

“Gotta have them from sleeping with a Slytherin,” Lavender said, “Heard they all shaved due to issues with livestock down there.”

“I’m not infested!” Hermione protested, “Let me go!”

“Most infamous whore here, can’t let you stay,” Lavender said.

“It’s my—” Hermione started.

Wand drawn, and a curse, Hermione was silenced, immobilized.

“You intend to go through with it?” Parvati asked Lavender.

“Yes, remove the trash,” Lavender said.

Padma blindfolded Hermione. Together, Hermione was lifted.

* * *

“Go! Go! Go!” came the shouts in the sixth years’ dormitory. Neville was bent over, on his hands and knees on his trunk, while Ernie brought his tongue to the butt crack. Ron chanted with the other two, Seamus and Dean, as Ernie licked Neville’s anus; Ernie’s hand was on Neville’s hard cock beneath.

“No, no…” Neville muttered.

“Wicked,” Seamus said, and took a swig, his arm around Dean’s shoulder, “Weasley — your kinkiest thing?”

“Umm…have to think…” Ron muttered.

“If Harry were here…” Dean said.

“He’s blown me,” Ron said, pointing the bottle of Firewhiskey in his hand at Dean, “Harry has sucked my dick!”

“Really?” Seamus asked.

“It was—great!” Ron exclaimed.

“Why?” Neville asked.

“Apology,” Ron said, “I forgave.”

“I…I…” Neville stuttered.

A squirt and Neville’s hard dick poured out, splattering the off white liquid across the top of his trunk.

“Weasley’s turn,” Seamus said.

“No…no…” Neville stuttered.

“Chicken?” Dean asked.

“No,” Neville said, taking a swig.

Ron bent over, got onto his hands and knees on the trunk.

“Dare ya to suck him,” Dean said to Seamus, “One bottle.”

“Alright,” Seamus said.

Neville patted Ron’s buttocks, before sniffing.

“Eww,” Neville said.

“Think yours was better?” Ernie asked.

Seamus knelt on the floor, bent over, underneath Ron’s chest, came in and gripped Ron’s soft todger. Seamus ran his finger on Ron’s foreskin, teased out the erection.

“Harry could be here,” Dean said.

* * *

“So, do you all sympathize with the animals?” the Oracle said, “To be captured, bred in captivity? What kind of life is that? To be dumped into a pen, told that other animal is to be your mate, whether you agree with it or not? I have plenty of sympathies for the creatures, and almost none for the zookeeper.

“Enough of that, let us return to our beautiful couple here.”

Eyes, eyes that had never really stopped watching, Harry with his cock and balls hanging out, next to Gia with her pussy on show.

“Do I need to tell you, Sparky, to be one like the animals?” the Oracle asked.

Harry understood. He closed in on Gia, reached around to her back, as her boobs seemed necessary. He undid her snap, but instead of just the boobs slipping out, her dress fell down, leaving her starkers on the stage.

“Oops,” Harry muttered.

“Go with it,” Gia said.

“Beautiful,” the Oracle said, “A human female wooing her mate.”

“How?” Harry asked.

“How you feel to do it,” the Oracle replied, “Just make sure they can witness it.”

“We’d normally use a bed,” Harry said, “Hold her up for me, will you?”

Gia leaned slightly, let the Oracle’s strong muscles hold her body, while Harry straddled her left leg, brought her right over his shoulder. Applause, catcalls, and cheers came as Harry pushed the pink glans of his hard dick into Gia. Harry flexed his hips while giving his balls maximum clearance, his shaft slid in and out, until held it firmly inside her. Harry waited, stumbled slightly as the euphoria sailed through him, and pulled out; white dew clung and started to ooze a bit from his tip.

“There you have it folks,” the Oracle said, letting Gia down until she could stand, “Show them.”

Harry went to the edge of the stage, showed his hard dick with the strand of semen hanging down. Harry took off his top hat, bowed, before restoring his hat.

“And Sparky gets the honor of the first dance,” the Oracle said, “Thank you folks, I will be back tomorrow with the normal show. Lets give these two young people a hand for being so willingly in sharing, showing us the love they have in each other. Make love, not war! Good evening!”

Harry embraced Gia, she held onto his tuxedo, as they began a waltz, on the stage, as the spotlights shone on them with his bottle green bow tie, her nudity, and his softening penis. They made it through the round, and Harry went to sit on the edge of the stage. Gia came over, sat. People walked by, some felt, fondled, Harry’s penis before going up onto the stage.

“Thank you,” Gia said to Harry, “You do love me.”

“Of course,” Harry said, “Weirdest evening of my life, but I enjoyed it.”

Harry yawned, began to lean over, his head hit her lap as he curled up on his side, and he fell to sleep.

“Sex does that to him,” Gia said to the first person who noticed.

* * *

Ron felt the surge go on and on, as his seed shot across Seamus’ face beneath him.

“I need Hermione,” Ron said, getting up.

“Where you heading?” Seamus asked.

“Bed!” Ron said as he left the dormitory.

Ron stumbled down the stairs , still naked, and up to the girls. He entered, the dormitory was empty. He tripped, fell onto the floor next to Hermione’s bunk, and went to sleep.

* * *

Meanwhile, Hermione felt the cold rain on her skin, heard the softness of the boots changing from grass to brush.

“We’ll leave her to rot,” came the voice of Lavender.

Hermione blacked out.

When Hermione came to, her arms, her hands, her legs could move, but her voice remained quiet, unable to scream. It was dark and cold in the trees, she realized was the Forbidden Forest, and she was starkers, with nobody else around. She decided to go in straight of a line as she could, began to walk, hoping that Hagrid would decide to search to find her. However, she knew this to be a vain hope, for she was supposed to be in Gryffindor Tower.

Hermione’s voice came back, but all that came were the sobs, the cries, that her housemates had done this to her. While she hadn’t always been the best of friends with everybody, she hadn’t counted on them to be this cruel. Hermione’s foot sunk into water; she glanced and recognized the pond.

“Maybe,” Hermione muttered.

She searched near the log she and Ron would lean up against, and found a wool blanket. She needed light to get back to the castle, to get back to Hogwarts, if she even wanted to go back. Instead, she sat on the ground, used the cool but not soaked blanket, wrapped herself in it, and began to sob herself to sleep.

* * *

1 Albus Dumbledore was known to be a hundred fifty or so when I first started the story, so it’ll remain despite it being shortened in subsequent books and interviews.  



	22. Thump

Rumble! Rumble! Rumble!

“Harry,” came Gia’s voice the next morning.

Harry woke and realized their predicament. They were both laying on the cement as people were stepping over them. A delivery truck went by, only several feet on the other side of the metal railing, separating them from the road. Harry realized that he was starkers as he sat up, Gia too, and both on the little pedestrian island for the crossing at the intersection in the middle of the A1 highway, traffic alternated between the two sides. Wisps of clouds drifted above, while more pedestrians came by, an older man threw a coin at them, it landed in a takeout plastic cup, which was on the ground nearby.

“How did we get here?” Harry asked.

“Umm…” Gia said, “I don’t remember, we’re definitely not home.”

“Feeling alright?” Harry asked as he stood up.

“Bit cold, otherwise okay,” Gia replied.

Harry grabbed the plastic cup.

“Don’t you have your thing?” Gia asked.

“No,” Harry said, “Left those at home, didn’t think we’d need them. We’ve got…not enough.”

Gia squatted, watched Harry’s todger as she peed onto the pavement; it stiffened.

“That works,” Gia said, her finger touched the foreskin.

“Yep, lets go,” Harry said.

Harry and Gia moved in with the flow of pedestrians, crossed from the small island to the sidewalk. Gia grabbed the cup, glanced at the change.

“I think there’s enough for breakfast,” Gia said.

“We need to get home,” Harry said. A thought came to him, it was London, but he didn’t want to go to the Leaky Cauldron and advertise that Harry Potter was naked and away from Hogwarts.

“Breakfast first,” Gia said, “As a naked girl—I can get us train fare, I just need to ask. You certainly like me.” She touched the foreskin on his hard cock.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

With the loosest of grips, more of a stroke, Gia pulled along the length of his shaft. Harry followed her tugs. She led the way, along the street.

“Think Ron’s right, like before on the trip,” Harry said, “Nobody’s bothering we’re naked.”

Gia stopped, turned around; she held his scrotum, his hard todger, in her right hand.

“Thought you like being starkers,” Gia said.

“I’m not objecting,” Harry said, “I meant it when I said that I love it.”

“Then do not _jinx_ it, alright?” Gia said, “I don’t know why, you don’t know why, but we both enjoy it, right? I’d rather be naked with you than anywhere else! Understand?”

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“Good,” Gia said, her left fingers petted his hard erection, “Enjoy it and think of the places you’d like to use this, on me, alright? I enjoyed it last night, it was definitely different to have commentary.”

“That was different,” Harry said, “Funny name you gave.”

“Unless you want me blabbing _Harry Potter_ —” Gia said.

“No,” Harry said.

“Then you need a nickname,” Gia said, “I had no time to think, so that’s the first one that came to me.”

“It’s alright,” Harry said, “Take a bit to grow on me.”

“Lets get breakfast,” Gia said, “I’m hungry and you need—let you play as we eat.”

Harry walked alongside Gia until they came a small cafe near London Tower. Gia pulled Harry in.

“Not hungry,” Harry grumbled.

“I want you around as long as possible, we’re eating,” Gia said. She went to the counter, ordered, and handed over the cup of change to the lady behind the counter. “Off to a rough start this morning.”

Gia brought Harry over to a table, near the corner. Gia sat on the table. Harry pushed her legs up and apart, until her feet were on the edge. He reached for the apex in her panties\His exposed glans came close to her vagina, his fingers massaged around it.

“No, not yet,” Gia said.

“Oh…” Harry groaned.

“I want the chase, the tease,” Gia said.

Gia moved back a bit as the lady brought over the tray, set the full English breakfast down right between Gia’s spread legs. Gia pointed to Harry, he sat on the seat right in front of her, his bollocks hung over the edge.

“Eat,” Gia said, “Got you a nice appetizer.”

Harry studied her vulva, the darkness as Gia pulled her labia apart.

“You like doing this,” Harry said.

“Are you eating?” Gia said, “Here, try this.” She grabbed a sausage, rolled it between her fingers for a moment, before sliding it into her vagina. “Interested?”

Harry reached, Gia slapped the hand.

“Eat it,” Gia ordered.

Harry leaned forward, his mouth began to bite down on the sausage that was still in the air. Harry crawled on his hands and knees, on the table, the plate beneath his hard erection, and moved inward. His tongue and teeth bit into the sausage near her, slid it out and kept eating. His dick dipped into the fried eggs, he felt the yolk getting onto him as he finished the sausage. Gia brought Harry upright on his knees, she knelt over, licked his tip.

“We’ll always eat like this?” Harry asked.

Gia brought him back down to sit on the chair, she tried to share it with him.

“I shouldn’t have to beg in order for you to eat,” Gia said, “Though I’m certainly willing to make it fun.”

Harry grinned.

“Besides, we could only afford the one,” Gia said, “It’ll have to last until we get home or beg. Here.”

Gia grabbed a spoon, loaded it with the baked beans, and brought it up to Harry’s mouth. He ate. She took a second scoop, at it herself. A fork divided the rest of the eggs.

“You’re trying to fatten me up,” Harry said.

“A bit,” Gia said, “Not a lot, a bit of fat to cushion.”

“Hmph,” Harry said.

“You’re not talking me into pouring the orange juice into my kitty,” Gia said, as she handed him the cup, “Drink up, helps keep your piss yellow.”

Harry drank a sip, before Gia shoved a strip of toast into his mouth. He ate, and before he had finished, Gia had another strip near his mouth.

“Full,” Harry said as he took a gulp from the orange juice.

“And yes, it’s totally selfish,” Gia said, “Totally selfish to want you fed to be healthy and strong.” She ran her right fingers down the middle of his chest, tickling as she dragged them along, around his naval, down the trail to his pubic hair, and along his soft dick. “Very selfish to want to keep you as long as I can.” She leaned in, kissed him on the lips.

“Feels forced,” Harry said.

“Would you have bothered with breakfast if I hadn’t?” Gia said, “Hope you understand—I love you, so that means, yeah, I’ll push you when you need it.”

Gia finished the the beans, the toast, and the rest of the breakfast.

Burp!

Harry grinned. Gia grabbed the empty plastic cup.

“Nothing left,” Gia said.

“Told you, train fare—” Harry started.

“Couldn’t have you hungry as we’re running around—” Gia started.

“Running! Of course,” Harry said, “Done?”

“Suppose so,” Gia said.

Harry stood, tugged on her wrist.

“I don’t get it,” Gia said as Harry moved fast out of the cafe.

“Lets move,” Harry said, “It’s a way out of this.”

* * *

Ron woke with the sorest of headaches; he was starkers on the floor next to Hermione’s empty four poster bed.

“Where’s Hermione?” Ron asked.

“How the fuck would I know?” Parvati retorted.

“Fine,” Ron said.

Ron left the girls dormitory, simply smiled as passing girls noticed his jostling dick, and went up the stairs to the boys dormitory.

“Did I really—?” Neville started to mumble as Ron entered.

“It was awkward, different,” Ron said, “Think nothing of it.” Ron moaned as the headache came back, extra strong intensity. “Maybe ask Madam Pomfrey—”

“We’d get suspended,” Neville replied.

Ron glanced at the cases of Firewhiskey still beneath Seamus’ bed. Quickly, Ron dressed in a plaid overshirt and blue denim trousers, walked out of the room. Neville walked with him.

“Can you walk quietly?” Ron asked.

“I’m trying,” Neville replied.

They entered the Great Hall.

“Where’s Hermione?” Ron said, “Normally she’d be here.”

“Keep it down,” Neville muttered.

They walked over to the Gryffindor table, sat next to Dean and Seamus. Ernie came over.

“About last night,” Ernie said, “I’m only going to say this once: it never happened.”

“Second,” Dean said.

“Motion passed,” Seamus grumbled.

Ron ate his breakfast, left. He went to the Library, which was empty of Hermione. He began to enter each and every girls lavatories, stopped in the second floor.

“Hello, where’s Harry?” Myrtle asked.

“Busy,” Ron said, not really knowing, but did know that Harry and Gia always managed to keep themselves entertained together.

* * *

Harry felt the heat, the sun’s rays slipped between the clouds above, loosening his testicles as him and Gia crossed the Southwark Bridge over the Thames River.

“Which way to the Globe Theater?” Harry asked Gia.

“Is that where we’re going?” Gia replied.

“Richard mentioned it,” Harry said, “Figured it’d be worth a try.”

Gia had them turn sharply on the south, took the stairs down to the path next to the river, turned left.

“Old building no longer stands,” Gia said, “It’s being reconstructed, so it’s not open.”

“I didn’t think to ask him yesterday as I wasn’t planning on this,” Harry said, “Still, he said he’d be here.”

“Oh,” Gia said, “Alright.”

They came to the large fence, a table on the stones right in front, with a sign Bard’s Run ; to either side, a crowd of adults from young to old, men and women, all scantily clad in underwear.

“Fill and sign here,” the eighteen year old, bare chested, sitting next to the table in a pair of white briefs, said as he handed Harry a clipboard.

“What’s this?” Gia asked.

“Standard release of liability,” the man said, “You’re here for the race, right?”

“What race?” Gia asked.

“The race, celebrating the morning after a Bard’s stellar performance,” the man said, “When they get caught in the bed of a fan, but that fan’s husband and brothers, and you’re having run like mad.”

“Go ahead,” said the familiar voice, “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Richard!” Gia exclaimed.

Harry decided against using his real name, instead, used the one Gia had given him, signed it Sparky , filled in the description to his underwear as None. Harry turned, Richard was there; wearing just a white jockstrap with discolorations around the base of the bulge.

“Hi,” Harry said, “Bit relieved seeing you here.”

“Are you going to run?” Richard asked Gia.

“No,” Gia replied.

“Come to watch?” Jen asked. Jen was fully dressed, with a T–shirt and blue jeans.

They moved in the small crowd; a man in a fedora stood a few yards away, camera in hand, with the camera strap that read Daily Telegraph . Richard turned around, butt toward the camera.

“We didn’t exactly volunteer,” Harry said, “More like an accident, we came to London last night.”

“And came home, right?” Richard said, “How else did your tuxedo make it onto your bed?”

“It’s there?” Harry stammered.

“Yeah, I mean—” Richard started.

“We never made it home,” Harry said, “We woke up in the middle of the A1.”

Richard grunted for a moment.

“We don’t have our clothes,” Gia said, “Mind helping us get home?”

“Sure, after the run,” Richard said.

“That’s disgusting,” Gia said.

Harry glanced, a bit of brown dropped behind Richard, while the jockstrap was now dribbling. His eyes darted, freshly stained and soiled underwear seemed to be the uniform.

“Take it your Mum doesn’t know,” Harry said.

“She knows I’m in a race, I didn’t elaborate,” Richard said, “Gia, careful, you’re about to be confused as a runner.”

“You’re not even bothering to wipe,” Gia said, her eyes on Richard’s buttocks, with the brown smeared near the anus.

“Supposed to have the shit scared out of us, remember?” Richard said, “Ready?”

“I’ll be fine,” Gia said to Harry.

Jen and Gia walked back, as Harry and Richard joined the crowd.

“You certainly dressed the part,” Richard said.

“Don’t ask me why my tuxedo made it home without me,” Harry said, “You’re sure—?”

“It had that hole Gia cut into it!” Richard said, “Mum’s talked about the tales from the drunks—yours takes the cake.”

“We weren’t drunk,” Harry said.

“Didn’t mean to imply that,” Richard said.

“Greetings and welcome to the Bard’s Run!” came the shouts from a man, standing on the railing to the Thames, small megaphone in hand, dressed with a nightgown, boxers, and bunny slippers. “You’ve just been caught in bed, make your escape!”

Pop!

Some cameras to the side took pictures as the crowd of several hundred began to move. The bloke from the Daily Telegraph took several of Harry, the tangled pubic hair on display. Harry’s arms moved, controlled, while his buttocks flexed, and a couple of ladies behind him whistled.

“They definitely like you,” Richard said.

“Figure?” Harry said, “Gotta be my feet.”

“Yeah, right,” Richard said as he gave Harry a quick glance over.

Harry’s thighs kept flexing, his back held up, and his testicles bounced around. His dick appreciated the sensation, grew stiff, and his erection swayed as it jutted forward. His foreskin retracted, let the glans soak in the heat of the sun.

“My, you’re really in trouble, aren’t you?” asked a mid–twenties lady to Harry’s left.

Harry glanced to his left at the brunette, about his height, and with tan lines around her white panties and bra which hinted at much sun in a two piece bikini.

“If I’m caught in bed, then I was caught in the act,” Harry replied.

This girl kept pace with Harry, kept glancing at him and his hard erection, as they both ran. Richard adjusted his jockstrap, one of the two elastic strands broke, his pouch held with less restraint than before.

* * *

Ron made it down to the dungeons; and even though it was unlikely, he figured it was worth the shot. He approached the girls bathroom when the greasy voice called out.

“Weasley!”

Ron turned, Professor Snape was coming up from behind.

“You have no business in the dungeons,” Professor Snape sneered, “Twenty points unless—”

“Kitchens,” Ron blurted, “Going to visit an Elf.”

“Pathetic,” Professor Snape sneered, “Move along.”

Professor Snape followed Ron to the kitchens; where Ron entered.

“Dobby is happy to serve friend of Harry Potter!” Dobby said.

“Trying to find Hermione—” Ron started.

“Weasley needs this!” Dobby snapped his fingers, a picnic basket appeared, and handed it over to Ron.

“I meant she’s missing,” Ron said.

“Weasley will find her heart,” Dobby said.

Frustrated, Ron left the kitchens with the picnic basket in hand. Ron bemused that Dobby could find Harry faster, when the thought of Harry came back to Ron’s mind, the map! Ron ran back up the stairs, climbing fast, went into the Gryffindor Tower, up the stairs, into his dormitory, crossed over to Harry’s trunk, and opened it. He took out the map, activated it, and began to scan, searching all the names moving around.

“Find me Hermione Granger,” Ron said to the map.

It scrolled to the edge, the edge of the Forbidden Forrest, but no further.

“Of course!” Ron exclaimed.

Ron reached, grabbed his cloak hanging nearby, before his feet moved quick, he ran back down the stairs. He left the castle into the overcast day, a bit nippy but bearable. Ron went fast, across the grounds, to the treeline, walked along the trees until he found the familiar rock, and turned inward. Ron gripped his wand, had it at the ready, as he treaded carefully along the lightly worn path; the crush of red and yellow leaves under his footsteps complimented the music of the birds. Ron turned at the large stump, ducked beneath the vines, and pushed through the bushes, to come to the huddled mass sitting near the tranquil clear water of the modest pond.

Red sullen eyes around the brown, bushy eyebrows and hair, Ron recognized Hermione, starkers as she sat there, on the old wool blanket, her right leg up. Hermione, though, did not look up, kept her chin on her raised knee, an occasional whimper accompanied the tears flowing down her face. Ron knelt and felt her cold skin, noted that she was not shivering.

“Haven’t you done enough?” Hermione snapped.

“Wha—at—?” Ron stammered, “I’m sorry.”

“Like an apology will fix things,” Hermione said.

“I missed you and when you didn’t show up to breakfast, I went looking,” Ron said as he sat, “Took a while to find you.”

Hermione grunted.

“Here,” Ron said, bringing his cloak around her back, “I am sorry.”

“For what?” Hermione asked.

“You’re obviously upset,” Ron said, “Dunno why, but you’re upset, and cold.”

Ron opened the picnic basket, there was a heated blanket on top, and he pulled this out, rested on Hermione’s lap. He stripped starkers, pulled the blanket over them both. Her cold fingers marched across his skin, held his todger tight, it stiffened.

“Thinking with your todger again,” Hermione said.

“Don’t dis it,” Ron said, “It’s telling me you’re pretty, you’re beautiful. It’s reminding me that I do love you. It persuaded me to come and find you. Even without it, I do know you’re my friend.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said, “It wasn’t you, not directly.”

Ron wrapped his arm around her back, held her right shoulder, felt the skin warming up.

“Too promiscuous,” Hermione retorted.

“Oh?” Ron muttered as his arm retreated.

“Sorry,” Hermione replied.

Hermione began to shiver. Ron moved backward fast, his right leg moved to the other side of Hermione, and moved forward. Ron’s arms reached beneath the blanket, held onto her breasts as he pulled her tightly to him, her back against his chest until his erection was pressed against her tailbone.

“Good enough to get to Madam Pomfrey?” Ron asked.

“Nothing she can do,” Hermione said, “I thought I didn’t want to feel again.”

“Then what did happen?” Ron asked. His hands moved along her breasts, began to warm up the top side, felt her erect nipples.

“If a boy, like you, sleeps around, chalking up girls like a Quidditch score, you’re marked a hero, a stud,” Hermione said, “If a girl does the same with boys, it’s a demerit, a girl’s considered a slut, a whore, or desperate.”

“You’ve only slept with me and Harry,” Ron said, “It happens when we date, that’s a good thing.”

“You’re thinking with your todger again,” Hermione said.

“Why argue with my todger?” Ron asked as he leaned in, “It says to love you and cherish you.” He kissed her on the neck.

“Have to admit, you really are trying,” Hermione replied.

Ron reached into the picnic basket, pulled out a flask, sniffed it to smell the Lady Gray tea, and handed it to Hermione. She sipped it.

“Thank Dobby for it,” Ron said.

“It’s just with all the rumors,” Hermione said, “They ganged up on me—it’s not like it was the first time. When I’m not with you, I’ve woken to mayonnaise smeared condoms being stuffed into my mouth, my shorts, or even littered about the floor around my bed. Parvati’s taken to inspecting my knickers on a regular basis. Books go hidden or my pills get confiscated—it’s frustrating, because I don’t think it’s Parvati, or Lavender instigating this, that they’re strings are being pulled too. Last night, they gave me an impromptu inspection, threw me out here, like I’m…I’m…trash.” She sobbed.

“Me and Harry both see you as a friend, first,” Ron said, “You were my friend long before we became lovers.”

“I know you care, and Harry does too,” Hermione said, “It’s just…this makes me want to quit Hogwarts.”

“We’re going to Madam Pomfrey,” Ron stated.

“I meant it!” Hermione quipped, “If it were just this past week, I’d get over it, but thing’s have been just happening, you understand? But it’s bugs me that I’d be tossing all that studying, all that hard work, over this!”

“Tell you what we’ll do,” Ron said, “Start by getting you all warmed up.”

Ron moved, the charmed blanket enlarged to cover them both as he laid her down onto the ground; he rested himself on top of her, though stayed mostly supported on his hands and knees. His todger hung between her legs, her breasts pressed into his chest. Ron smiled as he looked down on Hermione.

“You’re just wanting to bang,” Hermione said.

“Will it help you warm up?” Ron asked.

“How generous,” Hermione snapped.

Ron held her, rolled them both over, and she was laying on top of him, her eyes faced him down.

“Better?” Ron asked.

“Much,” Hermione said, sarcastically.

“When we get back, we’ll report the assault,” Ron promised.

“That’d make things worse,” Hermione said.

“Alright, you move into my bed,” Ron said, “That way they have to deal with me instead.”

“Selfish?” Hermione asked, her hand felt his stiff erection beneath her, “Doubt it’d be allowed, I mean, Professor McGonagall’s not that thick to not object. Like it’d really help.”

“Or I move into yours,” Ron said, “You ought to be able to be safe in bed.”

“Hogwarts is supposed to be safe,” Hermione said, “I shouldn’t need a body guard.”

“Nor should Harry need armor in the corridors,” Ron replied, “But he did. You and me, we both know Hogwarts isn’t always safe—never has been, never will. But you, our odds are better if I know you’re safe, with me.”

“Thank you for volunteering,” Hermione said, “Suppose Gia’s—?”.

“See if you need more warmth,” Ron said.

Ron pulled her slightly, pushed upward, before adjusting his hard erection, and parted her labia. His dick went inside as she was lowered.

“You’re just wanting—” Hermione started.

“Gotta check,” Ron said, “Feels a tad cold, warm it up?”

“Your todger thought this up?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah,” Ron said, “Is it right, this a good idea?”

“Not sure,” Hermione said.

“Does it feel warm?” Ron asked.

“Yes,” Hermione replied.

“Good.” Ron pulled her head down, kissed her on the lips.

“Hmm…” Hermione leaned over, sniffed beneath his cheek, and moved her hips. Her motion moved the skin around his shaft, letting his penis inward and outward.

“Had your period?” Ron asked.

“Wha—” Hermione stammered.

“Condom, yes or no?” Ron asked.

“Hmm…” Hermione muttered.

Ron took a moment, cast it to be safe, and she continued.

“Suppose Gia’s—?” Hermione asked.

“Better believe Harry will make full advantage of the pills,” Ron replied.

Hermione kept flexing her hips.

* * *

Harry watched the brunette’s panties, the shower dribbling from the cloth, as she ran between Harry and Richard; the crowd of runners had separated enough that there was clearance in front of them.

“That’s nice and all,” Harry said, “I’m starkers, much easier.”

It took Harry some effort to unclench, though not a lot as he was running, and brown dropped behind him; the brunette smiled as Harry also let his bladder loose. As they approached the next pub, he began to piss, the jet flew forward, and the brunette smiled.

Click! Click!

Harry had only a couple of seconds to register, the familiar crocodile–skin handbag, the jeweled spectacles, the blond hair, of Rita Skeeter, and her photographer.

“My, my, Harry!!” Rita exclaimed.

Harry blushed as he tapped the door handle; and ran as fast as he could. Richard caught up.

“You know her?” Richard asked, as he adjusted his jockstrap, one bit of elastic snapped.

“Right as I’m taking a dump!” Harry said, briefly glancing backward to the long log of sludge on the road behind them, before he returned his gaze forward, “Yeah, likely made the paper.”

“You really like to piss,” the brunette said, catching up.

“I try to do it every time I run,” Harry said.

“Yeah, right,” the brunette said.

“Like his penis?” Richard asked her.

“It’s okay,” the brunette said, “Only one brave enough to show it today.”

“There’s going to be a test on it at the end,” Harry said, “How much further?” 

“We’re not even halfway,” Richard said, “Dunno, twenty miles.”

“Twenty?” Harry said, “How long’s the course?”

“It’s a marathon,” the brunette said.

“Twenty six point two miles,” Richard said, as he reached to adjust the jockstrap.

“Gah!” Harry stammered, still, though, he kept running.

“Blimey!” Richard exclaimed, the other strap broke, the pouch swung back and forth.

“Take it off!” the brunette exclaimed.

Richard’s fingers moved, busted the elastic waistband, flung the jockstrap to the side. The brunette smiled at the sight of Richard’s growing circumcised penis. However, they all kept running, exchanging glances. Harry and Richard studying her curves, while she studied theirs, though Harry’s pissing hard cock drew more of her attention than Richard’s.

* * *

Neville stood near the shore in the water of the lake, his trousers legs rolled up to clear. Luna sat on the shore, on Neville’s shoes, in her opal dress, with a Quibbler upside down in her hands.

“Funny things are supposed to start this year,” Luna said, “Dunno what.”

“The sea urchin,” Neville said, holding a purple one in his hand, “Can be found nearly _anywhere_ where there’s water, you know, all the time, so oceans, or lakes. Though you got to be careful, some can be venomous to the touch.”

“Hear that?” Luna said, “Merfolk are warning us about the Nargles.”

Crunch! Crunch!

Twigs broke beneath the feet as Colin came running, camera swung by his side.

“Neville!” Colin shouted, “Have you seen Harry Potter?”

“No,” Neville said, “Why?”

“I mean it,” Colin said, “When did you last see him?”

“Yesterday, I think,” Neville said.

“Have you seen a Nargle before?” Luna asked Colin.

“No,” Colin replied, “Seen Harry?”

“Maybe,” Luna said. She held the Quibbler up, on the back, a large drawing with the title Where’s Harry ?

“Not that—as in Hogwarts!” Colin said, “Neville, Luna, mind helping?”

“I’ve just about found him,” Luna said.

“Is it that urgent?” Neville asked.

“Yes,” Colin said, “He’s got an appointment.”

“Have you tried Ron?” Neville said.

“I’ve searched for Weasley too, but it’s Harry I need,” Colin said.

“Alright,” Neville said, leaving the lake.

“I’ll keep your shoes safe,” Luna said.

Neville shook his head, followed Colin.

“Where have you tried searching?” Neville asked.

“Everywhere,” Colin said, “The house, Hagrid’s, the Library, even the Quidditch Pitch. I even checked the Owlery, his bird’s not there.”

“Owls do hunt,” Neville said.

They entered the courtyard, went through the oak doors, onto the first floor.

“Thank you,” Colin said.

“Try the Hospital Wing, he might’ve shown up,” Neville said.

“That’s not the appointment I’m talking about,” Colin said as they climbed stairs.

“Then what?” Neville asked.

“I setup a fireside chat with Doris Crockford,” Colin said, “She needed ask him questions about his girlfriend—”

“He agreed to this?” Neville asked.

“I haven’t asked him,” Colin said, “Doris needs to get the article ready for Harry Potter Quarterly !”

Neville stopped them both on the third floor.

“Blimey!” Neville said, “Why the fuck didn’t you ask?”

“He’d just say No ,” Colin said, “Figured it’d be better to surprise him.”

“Did Harry make you his publicist?” Neville asked.

“No,” Colin said, “But the public has a right to know—”

“It’s his choice, not yours,” Neville said, “I would’ve expected a Gryffindor…Harry?”

Colin spun, camera up, faced the familiar teenage boy with jet black hair, the scar on the forehead, the round glasses, with the classic black jumper over a blue shirt. One step, two steps, a fist hit Colin’s camera, it went to the floor, and the boy stomped on it.

“HARRY!” Colin stammered.

A stomp to Colin’s right foot, and Colin howled.

“Harry!” Neville snapped, hands tried to grip the arm.

The boy wrenched until his back was toward Neville, the foot came up backward, smacked Neville in the crotch. Colin tried to hold onto the boy, but the boy punched, Colin fell to the ground, and the boy kicked Colin in the ribs.

“HARRY!” Neville shouted as he tried to tackle the boy.

However, the boy spun around, a wand drawn, a flash of red, and Neville fell. Neville blacked out.

* * *

BURP!

Ron held the napkin in front of him.

“Useless,” Ron said.

“Just because a savage like yourself doesn’t know how to use one, doesn’t make it useless,” Hermione said.

Ron put it across his nostrils.

Pzzt!

“Gross,” Hermione said.

“Had to be done,” Ron said, “Feeling better?”

Hermione adjusted the blanket, wrapped around them both.

“Yes,” Hermione said, “Thank you for looking out for me, it’s appreciated.”

They heard the faint two–o–clock chime from Hogwarts. Ron reached for his clothes.

“So soon?” Hermione asked.

“Well,” Ron said, “I am Captain of the Quidditch team and we need to practice.”

Ron handed her his boxers, his T–shirt, his socks, before he put his trousers and overshirt on.

“Thanks,” Hermione said, dryly.

“Like you’d fit my shoes,” Ron said, “Use my cloak too, keep people from guessing.”

Ron folded the new blanket, put it beneath the log.

“You’re not expecting this to happen again?” Hermione asked.

“It helped you out, right?” Ron said, “Help the next person out.”

They began to rise, but Ron’s hand pushed her, kept them both flat, as the sound of quickly approaching footsteps came to his ears. They laid low, slid beneath the dense brush, where Ron pulled the old blanket over them. From the Hogwarts side came the greasy black haired Professor Snape with his billowing black robes; from the forest side came the short balding Wormtail, his right hand reflected a bit of the sky above. They stopped an arms length apart, Professor Snape’s eyes locked onto Wormtail’s face, but Wormtail kept trying to duck the stare.

“I am incredibly busy,” Professor Snape said.

“Master is no longer interested in Potter—”

“Liar,” Professor Snape retorted.

“Do not get me wrong,” Wormtail said, “Potter’s death would still please him, it is no longer required.”

“Potter’s habit of sticking his nose where it does not belong—” Professor Snape said.

“Kill him, if you can,” Wormtail said, “But you know where the focus must remain.”

“Unless you have anything further—” Professor Snape said.

“Master does question your commitment—”

“Has he failed to read the The Daily Prophet ?“ Professor Snape asked..

“Surely you have opportunities—”

“Without betraying my position?” Snape said, “I have the confidence of the Headmaster—this conversation is terminated.”

Snape spun around and walked for the castle. Wormtail transformed and the rat scampered off.

“That was interesting,” Hermione said as she crept out of their hiding space.

Hermione brushed the dirt from herself and Ron.

“You’re interesting,” Ron said, his eyes traced her curves beneath the cloth before she pulled the cloak tight.

“I meant them,” Hermione snapped.

“How?” Ron said, “We’ve always suspected—”

“I don’t envy Snape,” Hermione said, “Trying to keep his feet on both sides.”

“His choice,” Ron said, “I know mine.”

Ron licked his lips, brought his mouth down toward her neck, but only got air—Hermione had taken a step and kept going. Ron grabbed the picnic basket, caught up, pulled her close as they walked.

“Womanizer,” Hermione snapped.

“You’re a woman?” Ron said, “Thought you’re a girl—”

Hermione lightly jabbed Ron in the stomach. They poked and jabbed as they returned to the castle; entered through the front oak doors. Professor McGonagall came off the marble stairs, stopped them in their tracks.

“Mr. Weasley, Miss. Granger,” Professor McGonagall asked, “Where have you been?”

Ron held up the picnic basket and grinned.

“There are rules,” Professor McGonagall said, as the cloaked slipped open, the boxers plainly visible on Hermione.

“Sorry,” Hermione said, as she cinched the cloak back up.

“And Mr. Potter?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“Elsewhere,” Ron stated.

Professor McGonagall escorted them to the first floor and into her office; she stood behind her desk, faced them.

“Where?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“He went to Noigate yesterday evening,” Ron said, “Seemed excited for some date last night, I didn’t ask for details.”

“Ron—” Hermione muttered to scold.

“Mione,” Ron said, “McGonagall knows about the commute.”

“That’s Professor McGonagall,” Professor McGonagall corrected, “Five points.”

“Sorry,” Ron muttered.

“Why are you so worried?” Hermione asked.

Professor McGonagall maintained her thin mouth and stern look.

“Neville Longbottom and Colin Creevy were found, beaten, on the third floor,” McGonagall said, “While they were successfully treated in the Hospital Wing, you can understand our concern. Upon questioning, they were reluctant, tried to find another plausible explanation, but both clearly remembering seeing Mr. Potter as the perpetrator.”

“That isn’t like Harry,” Ron protested, “He’d never do that.”

“You loyalty is admirable,” Professor McGonagall said, “However, Professor Dumbledore agreed with my assessment; we are certain that Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Creevy were not trying to deceive us with it. To their credit, they were looking for anything to avoid naming Mr. Potter.”

“Impostors?” Ron said, “Costumes in Harry’s likeness are sold from a store in Diagon Alley, there’s even a catalog!”

“Professor Lupin and Professor Tonks combed the spot thoroughly, Madam Pomfrey checked both Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Creevy for clues during her examinations,” Professor McGonagall said, “We found no shreds or other evidence of a costume.”

“Po—” Ron said.

“Until we ask Harry,” Hermione said, “We won’t know where he was earlier, for we were otherwise occupied.”

“Thank you for your cooperation,” Professor McGonagall said, “I will want to speak with Mr. Potter as soon as he is available.”

Ron and Hermione left the office; they returned the picnic basket, and went up the many flights of stairs to the seventh floor; entered Gryffindor common room.

“Where’s Potter?” Seamus demanded.

“None of your business,” Ron said.

“When my friend winds up in the Hospital Wing, it _is_ my business,” Seamus said.

“He’s unavailable,” Ron said.

Ron led Hermione up to the boys’ dormitory. Ron removed his clothes, handed them over to Hermione; she put them on while he put on his Quidditch Robes. 

“You’ve changed the uniform,” Hermione said.

“I ain’t sitting on my balls,” Ron said as he pulled his Quidditch robes over him, “It’s uncomfortable, even with a good cushioning charm.”

“I need to study,” Hermione said.

“Come with me,” Ron said, “I’d feel better if you’re where I can watch you, just in case.”

“After we get my book bag,” Hermione said.

“Yeah, whatever,” Ron said.

“Change into my own clothes,” Hermione said.

“It’s okay, those seem to fit you better,” Ron said, “Even if they’re less revealing, you seem more comfortable in them.”

Ron grabbed his Firebolt.

“Girls clothes are girls clothes for a reason,” Hermione said.

“As Harry puts it, why be uncomfortable?” Ron said.

“Starkers, you mean,” Hermione said.

“That too,” Ron said, “Heck, I’d be surprised if his cock weren’t in Gia right now.”

They left the dormitory, went down the stairs to cross the common room.

“Hey bitch!” Parvati shouted from a table, “Find a different motel, this one’s full!”

“This ain’t over!” Seamus said to Ron, “I need to teach Potter a lesson!”

“Just tell them where Harry is!” Ginny snapped as she followed Ron and Hermione, with her Cleansweep in her hand.

“No!” Ron said as they left Gryffindor Tower, “Stop demanding!”

“I have a right—” Ginny started.

“No,” Ron said, as he glared at her, “You do _not_ have the right to Harry’s life—it’s **HIS**!”

“Will he be coming to practice?” Ginny asked.

“How should I know?” Ron said, “Maybe? That’s enough on Harry! We’ve got practice.”

Hermione followed.

“What is Harry up to?” Ginny asked.

“Banging!” Ron said, “He’s banging his girlfriend, all weekend long! You’d have to be mental to even suggest he’d stop that to beat up Neville and Colin.”

“Stop lying Ron!” Ginny said, “He’d have to leave Hogwarts to do _that_!”

“Please drop it,” Hermione said, “Harry’s simply unavailable and he certainly wouldn’t have done what he’s been accused of.”

“It’s difficult to believe,” Ginny replied.

* * *

“Hey!” Richard snapped.

The brunette, giggling, took her right hand away from Richard’s hard cock, while her left reached to grab Harry’s.

“Hey!” Harry snapped, contrary to what his dick wanted. His dick didn’t care who was playing with it, though he did care, and his dick gave a momentary tremor, hinting it was ready.

They went down the steps from Waterloo Bridge back to the Thames path, ran along. They passed the signage advertising the future location of the Modern Tate Museum, came to the ribbon marking the finish. The brunette was two steps behind as they crossed the wide chalk line. Harry felt the exhaustion, bent over, massaged his calf muscles.

“I’d love to ring you up,” the brunette said, staring right at Harry’s bare buttocks, his scrotum dangling between the partially spread legs.

“Everybody loves a rebel Harry,” Rita Skeeter said, coming over, “Only thirteen—”

“Thirteen!” the brunette exclaimed, quickly moved away.

“No! No!” Harry protested.

Rita, though, backed Harry against the bulwark separating the path to the Thames. Parchment and a quill came out, the quill began to write.

“When do you plan to tell your Headmaster about your little rule breaking?” Rita asked, her right hand gripped Harry’s hard cock, “Nice thing you’ve got going on.”

“Back away,” Harry said.

“Nice advertising,” Rita said, her fingers teased Harry’s foreskin, “Think your habitual flaunting the rules led to this little display today?”

“Let go of him!” Richard stammered.

“I’m a reporter Ronald,” Rita said, “Now, unless you want your father to become unemployed—”

“Quit—!” Harry started.

“Over here!” Richard barked.

“He’s thirteen!” shouted the brunette from earlier.

Several constables approached and witnessed Rita’s hand on Harry’s hard erection, when she gave one more tease. The short man, nearby, with a camera, took pictures. Harry felt the tremors, the spasms , as his hard cock took control, unleashed itself. Off white semen shot out of the barrel, onto Rita’s hand, and her dark green dress.

“Mamm,” the first constable said, with authority in his voice, “I need to ask you a few questions.”

“I got the answers I needed,” Rita said before Harry saw the tip of the wand in her cuff, “ _Obliviate_!”

“Never mind, move along,” the man said, before both constables left.

“Now you—” Rita started.

“Stay away!” Harry barked, pointed his finger at her, “I solemnly swear to swat every bug I see!”

“Come,” Richard said.

Harry and Richard ran; Jen and Gia followed. They made it to Waterloo station; Richard made for the ticket machine, removed his wallet from Jen’s pocket, and punched in.

“I need to use the loo,” Jen said as Richard fed a twenty pound note in.

“Wait on it,” Richard said as he grabbed the tickets.

They studied the board, made for the platform, and boarded the train. Jen made for the lavatory; Richard, Harry, and Gia followed her in. It was crowded, but tolerable as Jen pulled her blue jeans and panties down, sat on the toilet.

“I don’t need cheerleaders for this,” Jen said, her eyes on the erection hovering in front of her; Richard’s circumcised modest shaft beneath the brown pubic hair. Harry’s intact foreskin simply dangled softly from the jet black pubic hair, a bit of dew still clung to the tip.

“Our arses need the wipes,” Richard said, wetting a paper towel in the sink. He wipped his crack.

Harry wet one, wiped his.

“I’m with Harry,” Gia said.

Richard and Harry finished; Harry punched the button, him and Gia left.Harry found an open four seater, sat. Gia sat next to him, but against the window, as Richard came down the aisle, leaned in.

“So, who was that chick handling everything?” Gia asked, “Ran with you?”

“Didn’t catch her name,” Harry said.

“Dunno, it helped me stay running,” Richard said, “I guess she liked what she saw.”

“Good taste,” Gia said.

“Excuse me,” Jen said as she came in to sit, facing Harry and Gia.

Richard went to sit, but Jen pointed, and he leaned back against the window, legs spread a bit, the hard erection jutted outward, while the loose testicles hung there.

“I wanted to rest,” Richard said, “Bit sore.”

“In a bit,” Jen said.

Gia and Jen watched from opposite sides, as the balls jostled as the train moved, swayed.

“Let him sit,” Harry said, “Perhaps bang?”

“ _You_ might be up for it, in public,” Richard said, as he sat down next to Jen, “I’m not.”

“It’s not like I’m seeking it out,” Harry said, “Just don’t care.”

In the suit of Southern Rail , the ticket inspector came by, Jen handed them over, and they were stamped before the man moved onward.

“Who was that other—lady?” Jen said, “The one that made you—?”

“A reporter,” Harry said, “Best not to explain it, but we’ve crossed paths before.”

“Evidently,” Jen said.

Harry curled up on the seat, leaned over, put his head in Gia’s lap, right ear down, while her boobs rested on his left. He napped until he felt Gia tugging on him to wake to see her boobs hanging right over his head, he was on his back and she was massaging his ball sack.

“Come on,” Richard said.

Harry stood; him and Gia followed Richard, left the train. Harry felt soreness with every step, his muscles protested, as they made their way back to 26 Oak. They entered, went up the stairs.

“Blimey!” Harry muttered as he entered Gia’s bedroom. Nicely laid out on her bed, though wrinkled, were Gia’s bottle green dress, and his tuxedo including his wallet.

“These are definitely them,” Gia said.

“I know,” Harry said, the cuts in the fabric were distinctive.

The door closed behind them, Harry turned to see Sirius standing there.

“I wish you had let me know your plans,” Sirius said, “I was expecting you back _last night_!”

“I haven’t a clue,” Harry said as he pointed to their clothes, “We were planning on coming back, guess we got a bit too tired.”

“Your Portkey could’ve gotten you back,” Sirius said.

“It was already here,” Harry said, he pointed to Hedwig’s perch on top of the bookshelf next to the window, the Hogwarts pin next to it.

“Or, head to the Leaky Cauldron,” Sirius said.

“I’m _the_ Harry Potter!” Harry said, “It’d get noticed, and I didn’t want to be noticed. If you’ll excuse me, I really need that hot tub.”

Harry reached for the door, opened it. He and Gia walked across the landing, opened Richard’s door and entered his bedroom.

“Oh,” Richard said.

Jen was starkers on his bed, Richard was fitting a condom onto his hard erection.

“Hot tub ready?” Harry asked.

“Should be,” Richard said, “Mind?”

“Go ahead,” Harry said.

Richard trembled a bit, as he laid down on Jen, the shaft pushed in between the labia of the wool covered pubics. He paused.

“Crimping my style,” Richard said.

“Focus on her, not us,” Gia said, “Harry.”

Harry and Gia went out the back sliding glass door, onto the roof. Harry moved the cover. Harry stepped up, in, and the hot water began to soak into him, easing the tension in his muscles. Richard came out a couple of moments later, the condom still fitted to his softening penis, the tip filled with white. 

“Sorry about that,” Richard said, “Too many watchers, not like you two.”

“It didn’t start out easy,” Harry said, “Just one nervous bang after another, until… Let’s just say I’d rather fuck than worry what others might think.”

Gia lifted Harry, slipped beneath him, let his butt rest between her legs, as she began to massage his buttocks. Jen came out as Richard pulled the condom off the shrunken penis, tossed it aside.

“Looks inviting,” Jen said, “Mind?”

“Sure,” Gia said.

Jen slipped in.

“Just didn’t understand that copper,” Jen said, “One moment, he was about to arrest that woman for child molestation—she said you’re thirteen—”

“I’m sixteen!” Harry protested.

“She’s quite talented in persuasion,” Gia said, “Hopefully, that’s that, the end of it.”

* * *

“Where’s Potter?” came the questions as Ron and Hermione entered the Great Hall Sunday morning for breakfast.

“How should I know?” Ron retorted.

“You sleep with him!” came Ernie’s reply.

“I slept with Hermione!” Ron snapped.

Hermione glared as they sat.

“Well, it’s the truth,” Ron said to her, “We’re steady, and it’s fine.”

An owl delivered the Sunday edition of The Daily Prophet to Hermione. She turned to five pages in.

The Daily Prophet

Potter Alert

A reliable source indicates that Harry Potter was seen in London, participating in something called the Bard’s Run , a marathon (twenty six mile run) to satirically commemorate an esteemed muggle profession. However, it is the consensus of the editorial board that this was merely an overenthusiastic fan using attire acquired from Diagon Alley.

Hermione skipped the article written by Rita Skeeter and turned the page. Both pages six and seven were full of photographs. Another flip, and pages eight and nine; again, page ten and eleven.

“Definitely looks like Harry,” Hermione said, “All we need to do is—”

“And ruin his life?” Ron said, “No.”

“It’s the perfect Alibi,” Hermione said.

“Of course it is, but he can’t use it,” Ron said, “I mean, sure, to destroy it, you’d have to be thick enough to swallow codswallop about…‘Lemme stop this banging so I can go to Hogwarts and do fist banging!’ At the same time, he’d lose his privilege, lose her.”

“Then who else?” Hermione said, “Neville and Colin seemed rather confident it was Harry beating them. Too bad Colin’s camera was destroyed and the film ruined.”

“Yeah, rotten shame,” Ron said.

“They fingered Harry, not you,” Hermione said.

“Like Harry’s going to miss the camera,” Ron said, “Besides, that wouldn’t last. I figure Colin’s getting it repaired or replaced.”

“Suppose Witch Weekly might buy it for Colin,” Hermione said, “Harry doesn’t like them, but they are juicy pictures.”

“You like them?” Ron asked.

“I won’t deny that,” Hermione said, “But I prefer Harry to be in person.”

* * *

Harry ran through the corridors of Hogwarts, went down the flight of stairs. He was starkers and carried his wand with the pin in his hand. He went along the first floor, entered Professor McGonagall’s office. She and Professor Dumbledore were sitting around the round table, a couple of pancakes were on the Headmaster’s plate. Syrup dripped onto the fork; a closed The Daily Prophet to the side.

“Attire!” Professor McGonagall scolded Harry.

“Your letter said it was urgent,” Harry said, “I came immediately.”

“Obviously,” Professor McGonagall said.

“Gia and I—what’s the matter?” Harry asked.

“Where were you … yesterday?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“Um…” Harry started.

“This _is_ serious,” Professor McGonagall said.

“London,” Harry said, “Gia and I…it was supposed to be a Friday date, turned into yesterday too, when we woke up—accidentally ran a marathon. Why?”

“Nothing,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Dismissed.”

Harry activated his Portkey, vanished.

“Two students assaulted and you lied to Mr. Potter,” Professor McGonagall said.

“He will learn of it…soon enough,” Professor Dumbledore said, “These are him.”

Professor Dumbledore opened The Daily Prophet , with the full spread of Rita’s pictures of Harry. Which included one of him ejaculating onto Rita.

“What do we tell the students?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“The truth,” Professor Dumbledore said, “We are confident…it was not Harry…this is a … school of magic, … other explanations exist.”


	23. Prince

Monday morning Harry sat naked on the bed in the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey came over.

“I wanted to see you Friday,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“Didn’t nag hard enough,” Harry said, sarcastically.

“How do you feel?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“A bit sore,” Harry said.

“I heard about that _marathon_ you ran,” Madam Pomfrey said, “What were you thinking? I told you to take it easy, yet, here you go, determined to break everything before it has a chance to finish healing properly.”

“I didn’t mean to—just kinda happened.” Harry protested.

Madam Pomfrey ran her wand over him. Harry stood, peed into the cup, and bent over. Her wand poked and prodded.

“I wish you were my only problematic patient,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Life is short enough as it is, why do you have to be so determined to make it even shorter?”

“Talk to that jerk who killed my folks and tried to murder me when I was one,” Harry said, “Get him to cut it out, and just then, I might be able to relax.”

“Everything working for your girlfriend?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“Yes!” Harry exclaimed as the first bell tolled.

“Get dressed, go to class,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Harry reached for the socks on the bed, began to dress. Harry loathed the tie, made him feel like he was being strangled, unless he kept it loose, which he put on last. He grabbed his bookbag, left the Hospital Wing. Harry consulted his schedule, listing Professor Sprout. He made his way down to the greenhouse.

“You’re late Potter!” Seamus exclaimed.

“Just in time,” Harry said as the bell tolled.

“You know, there are other ways to take out stress,” Neville said.

“He’s Lording it over us,” Ernie Macmillan said.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked Hermione.

“You, or somebody looking just like you, picked a fight with Neville and Colin,” Hermione whispered to Harry.

“Blimey! What? When?” Harry exclaimed.

“Middle of the day, Saturday,” Hermione replied.

“They were both knocked unconscious,” Ron said.

“I was running a marathon!” Harry seethed. He suddenly understood Professor Dumbledore’s questioning.

“We saw the pictures,” Hermione said.

“I hadn’t a clue what Rita Skeeter was doing there!” Harry said.

“Don’t worry, it didn’t make the front page,” Ron said.

“Really?” Harry asked.

“More like pages six through eleven,” Hermione said, “Including a centerfold.”

“Congratulations,” Ron said, “I think you’ll be a favorite pinup.”

“Thank you for that assessment,” Harry grumbled.

“Good morning,” Professor Sprout said, “Please hand in your essays.”

Toward the end of that Herbology lesson, Neville had the shears in his hand, nipped at the stem.

“Ow!” Neville quipped.

Neville pulled back a bloodied finger.

“Why’d you do that Potter?” Seamus yelled at Harry.

“Do what?” Harry replied.

“Ignore it,” Ron said to Harry, “They’re baiting you.”

“Why’d you do it?” Seamus demanded, as he stepped close to Harry, “First you beat him senseless now you’re using him as a guinea pig?”

“I didn’t—” Harry said.

“Tired of your lies,” Seamus said.

SMACK!

Seamus’ fist recoiled from the left side of Harry’s jaw.

“Hey!” Ron said as he shoved Seamus away.

“You’re in on it too!” Seamus said.

“Stop it,” Dean said, “I don’t want to have to take points.”

“Like those matter,” Seamus said.

“Forget it,” Harry said to Seamus.

“I can’t,” Seamus said, “How much are you going to pay them off?”

“I was running—it wasn’t me!” Harry snapped, “Stop blaming me.”

“Can’t fool me with some enthusiastic fan,” Seamus said.

“Use your head,” Harry seethed.

SMACK!

“Twenty points!” Dean snapped as Seamus’ withdrew his fist from Harry’s side ribs.

“He’s got you too?” Seamus asked Dean.

“ _You’re_ the one doing the hitting,” Dean retorted.

“Shove it,” Ron said to Seamus.

Dean, Ernie, and Neville worked Seamus away from Harry.

“I’d rather run that marathon, again, than put up with this,” Harry said.

“Keep that down,” Ron said, “They sense something weird is happening with you, with you not being around, it gets noticed.”

“Really?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, really,” Ron said, “I feign ignorance when asked, but they’re not buying it.”

“Thank you,” Harry replied.

“You do get noticed,” Hermione said, “Whether you’re here or not.”

“I confess, we missed ya too,” Ron said, “Nice pictures.”

“Thanks Ron,” Harry snapped.

“They were nice,” Hermione said.

“Glad you approve!” Harry said, “You only had all summer—you didn’t, by chance, get another package?”

“No,” Ron said, “Still, it made me appreciate you better.”

They kept on working to the end of the double lesson.

“Have a nice day,” Professor Sprout announced.

“Yeah, right,” Malfoy sneered as he left first; Crabbe and Goyle followed.

Neville’s shoelaces tied themselves together, right before he began to walk. Neville tripped, hit his nose against the door’s edge.

“Why’d you do that?” Seamus demanded of Harry.

“Not his fault,” Neville said, holding his bloodied nose.

“What’d he feed you?” Seamus asked Neville.

They left the greenhouse, started up the stairs from the ground to the third floor. Parvati, who was in the lead, halted, her foot stuck in a step.

“Relax it!” Seamus said.

They all gasps as Parvati’s robes, clothes, vanished, leaving her starkers. Nearly everybody stopped to study her. Her bare buttocks faced them, the crack slightly crocked, the round butt cheeks curved, the creases with her thigh muscles converged. Seamus went past her, turned around and stopped.

“Seamus!” Parvati snapped.

“Somebody’s getting hard,” Seamus said.

“Stop it!” Hermione said, coming around, with most of the others.

“How much did Potter pay you?” Parvati asked Hermione.

“Nice,” Ernie said, “Can you stay like that?”

“Just needs a bit of a shave,” Seamus said, his eyes studied the carpet in the crotch.

“Your bookbag!” Padma snapped.

Parvati moved her bookbag, it hid her crotch, but the breasts were still there.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you Potter?” Seamus asked.

“I’ve got a girlfriend who _wants_ me to strip her!” Harry said, “I don’t need this. Here.” Harry pulled his cloak from his bookbag, handed it to Parvati.

“I don’t need—” Parvati said as she refused Harry’s cloak.

“Here,” Padma said as she handed hers over.

“Thank you, no gentleman here,” Parvati said as she wrapped Padma’s cloak over her.

Padma helped Parvati out of the false step. The rest of them continued up the stairs.

“Sorry Potter,” Seamus said, “I’ll forgive you—if you teach me that spell you just used.”

“It wasn’t me,” Harry said.

“Be careful Seamus,” Ernie said, “He’ll use it on you next, though I’d expect he practiced it on Weasley.”

“Potter’s likely right,” Seamus said, “He wouldn’t do it to Parvati, likely wants to jump Weasley’s bones instead.”

Harry glared.

“Lets stay back, just a bit,” Ron said to Harry.

Hermione, Ron, and Harry loitered a moment, let the rest disappear down the third floor corridors, including Parvati and Padma.

“Is it getting this bad?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said.

“Sorry, didn’t realize the insults—nice not dealing with them at home,” Harry said.

“I can manage,” Ron said, “I grew up with five older brothers, so I learned.”

“Lets go,” Harry said.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione continued up the steps.

* * *

After Defense against the Dark Arts, Harry, Ron, and Hermione joined the others leaving the classroom.

“I’ll meet you at lunch,” Hermione said, she went into the third floor girls’ lavatory.

Hermione entered a cubicle when she heard the other door open, footsteps. Hermione bolted the door. She recognized the voices.

“They’ve even been doing it in their common room,” Hannah Abbott said, “Ernie said so.”

“What that slut sees in them, I don’t know,” Susan Bones said, “She’ll get on her hands and knees, beg.”

“I feel sorry for the others,” Megan Jones said, “That Potter—it’s like he owns Gryffindor _and_ the castle.”

Hermione stayed in her stall, she needed to go, but she didn’t wish to make a sound.

“So stuck up, the lot of them, so spoiled,” Hannah Abbot said, “Even heard that they intend to use their fellow housemates as guinea pigs, to test new spells, new incantations—that’s why Parvati was so embarrassed. Can you believe the nerve, undressing her like that?”

“Likely won’t be the last time,” Megan Jones said, “I’m glad I’m a Hufflepuff!”

Flush! Flush! Flush!

“You got that right!” Hannah Abbot said.

“Glad,” Susan Bones replied.

Cubicle doors moved, sinks poured.

“Think I’ll let them others stay with us,” Hannah Abbot said, “Let them escape Potter.”

The lavatory door opened, closed, as the footsteps led them away. Hermione lowered her trousers and panties, sat on the toilet.

* * *

“Hustle! Hustle!” Ron shouted from his broom at Natalie MacDonald.

Natalie flew. Justin Prewett took his bat, bludgeoned the Bludger, it hit Natalie and the Quaffle fell from her grip. Ginny flew beneath, caught the Quaffle, and ran it through the goal posts.

“Weasley!” Oliver Wood shouted as he entered the Quidditch Pitch, “Now!” His eyes were on Ron.

Harry came down along with Ron.

“Good,” Oliver Wood said, “Potter, which days have you booked the field for?”

“Um…” Harry muttered.

“I figured as much,” Oliver Wood said, “I just heard a complaint from Roger Davies, being unable to schedule the field. I checked the calendar, would it surprise you Potter that the field was reserved in your name?”

“Harry wouldn’t personally reserve it,” Ron said, “Talk to our team secretary.”

“Secretary?” Oliver Wood said, “I didn’t realize that we needed secretaries, who’s your team secretary?”

“What’s going on?” Harry asked Oliver Wood.

“Were you aware of what your team captain did?” Oliver Wood said, “He signed up for every day until the Quidditch final.”

“It’s not just me,” Ron said.

“Seems familiar,” Harry said to Oliver Wood.

“Sure, I signed up for as much as I could,” Oliver Wood said, “I don’t recall going through my entire team’s roster as I signed up. Today, it’s been booked under you, Potter. Tomorrow is under Colin Creevy, Ginny Weasley for Wednesday, Ron Weasley, all throughout the school year.”

Harry laughed.

“It’s not funny Potter,” Oliver Wood said.

“Yes it is,” Harry said, “I’ll leave this to you.”

Ginny came back down.

“I did it for the team,” Ron said.

“Every day not listed under you will be stricken, opened back up to the other three teams,” Oliver Wood said, “If you wish to haggle with the other team captains, that needs to be ran by me. Understood?”

“And those my name?” Harry said, “Those should be kept too.”

“You’ve been on the team long enough to know this wasn’t right,” Oliver said

“You used to be on the Gryffindor team,” Ron said.

“I am an instructor at Hogwarts,” Oliver Wood said, “I cannot play favorites. If getting your fair share of practice time seems unreasonable, you can resign or forfeit the entire season. Sorry, that’s my final word.”

“Yeah,” Ron said, begrudgingly.

Oliver Wood left.

“You could’ve backed me up better!” Ron said.

“Wood’s just mad because he didn’t think of it,” Harry said.

Ron’s frown dissipated, a bit.

“I told you it wasn’t going to work,” Ginny said to Ron.

“Speaking of reservations,” Ron said, “Can you reserve the Prefect’s bathroom for me?”

“Doesn’t typically need a reservation,” Ginny said, “Besides, you’re not a Prefect.”

“Claim you and Colin,” Ron said, “Thursday evening, it’s Hermione’s birthday.”

“Why’d you need it?” Ginny asked.

“Use your imagination!” Ron snapped.

“I’d rather not,” Ginny said.

Harry laughed.

“It’s not funny,” Ron snapped.

“It is,” Harry said, “Ginny, I’ll second his request though, Prefect’s bathroom, Thursday evening. Can it be done?”

“Yes,” Ginny replied.

“Thank you,” Harry said.

They returned to practicing.

* * *

Harry was naked when he landed in Gia’s bedroom, with the strap of his bookbag over his shoulder, the bag hung to the side. He walked over, stored his wand in Hedwig’s perch, put an owl treat in her dish. He left the bedroom, went down the stairs, took the hard right, crossed the living room, another right, and entered the dining room. He walked along the table, pulled a chair out, put the bag on the table, and sat on the chair. He adjusted himself forward a bit, pulled on his balls to let them hang over the edge of the seat. He brought out the Quill, ink jar, parchment, and began to work on his Transfiguration essay.

“That’s a funny way to write,” Ant said, coming into the dining room.

It took Harry a moment to realize she was referring to the quill.

“It’s the way my school does it,” Harry said.

“You could just use a pen,” Ant said.

“No, they want it by quill,” Harry said.

“Bit quaint,” Kristen said, coming into the dining room, “However, that’s what was used before the ballpoint pen was invented. It’s does encourage good penmanship. Maybe I should have you teach my department, some of their scribbles is downright horrible to have to decipher. I’ve considered mandating they use the typewriter, but that’s not exactly practical on the beat.”

“Typewriter, that’d cause a riot,” Harry bemused. He imagined turning in his Potions essay, typed. Though he wondered about feeding a roll of parchment into the device.

“Andrea, you had something you were going say to him,” Kristen said, “Remember?”

“Yeah,” Ant got a bit more somber, “Did you really get Gia the pill?”

“Birth control,” Harry said.

“Andrea!” Kristen snapped.

“I…I’m sorry I took your debit card,” Ant said, “Won’t happen again.”

“You can’t use it anyways,” Harry said.

“It acted weird,” Ant said.

“It _kept_ you from using it,” Richard said as he entered. He was already stripping as he walked, the shirt fell to the floor.

“I’m glad to hear that you’ve made the decision to be responsible,” Kristen said to Harry, “Too many don’t.” She went into the kitchen.

Yip! Growl!

“Cody! Snuffles!” Ant shouted, she rushed into the living room.

Gia came through the door. Richard, now starkers, went into the kitchen. Gia sat on the chair just to Harry’s left. Harry studied her breasts resting on the table. 

“That’s not right,” Harry said to Snuffles, who came beneath the table, the head peering up between Harry’s legs as his dick stiffened into a hard erection.

“Snuffles broke up this one fight at school,” Gia said, “Couple of guys arguing, the usual. Teachers think he’d make a great hall monitor.”

“Snuffles is intelligent,” Harry said.

She leaned over, kissed Harry.

“So, how was it today?” Gia asked.

“Stupid stuff,” Harry said, “Get this, while I was running that marathon, somebody at school dressed up as me—my normal me, beat up a couple of others.”

“I saw the pictures in the newspaper,” Kristen said, “You were running in London, how far away is your school from there?”

“It’s a ways,” Harry said, “But it didn’t persuade my schoolmates who assumed the London Harry was somebody else dressing up as me.”

“There wasn’t much to dress up,” Kristen said.

“I know,” Harry said, “According to _them_ , I’d rather be beating up my housemates than running naked for Gia. As Hermione puts it, I think with my todger!”

“Good advice,” Gia said, her hand felt his hard cock.

“A simple explanation and apprehending the real culprit should help,” Kristen said, “Did you tell them you were in London?”

“It’s a boarding school,” Harry said, “I’m kinda the only one allowed to commute—I don’t want to spoil that. Fortunately, Professor Dumbledore—the Headmaster, believes me.”

“If I know the agency assigned to the case, I can send a letter,” Kristen said as she opened the refrigerator

“I don’t think that’d be possible,” Harry said, “Bit reclusive, like to handle things internally.”

“Don’t mess it up,” Kristen said as she felt into the refrigerator, “Bollocks—it’s like an oven in here.”

Kristen pulled a half bottle of milk, poured it into the sink, it was curdled.

“Definitely done for,” Richard said, pulling out some celery stalks.

“Just because you don’t like that doesn’t automatically mean it’s bad,” Kristen said, “Dinner…about an hour away.”

Kristen went to the phone, dialed.

“Hello…King’s pizza?” Kristen asked into the phone.

“I can’t focus on this,” Harry said as he put the quill down.

“Later then?” Gia asked.

“I just need—” Harry started.

Gia laughed. Kristen hung up the phone.

“I wanna do something different,” Harry said, “Hey, Mrs. Osborn, any ideas?”

“You don’t have to call me Mrs.” Kristen said, “What did you need?”

“You know, taking advantage of the birth control,” Harry said as he stood.

“Have you tried flowers?” Kristen asked.

Harry thought back to the flower petals from the Hogwarts showers, he could see how it’d work. Harry went out the back sliding glass door, picked the dandelions from the yard, came back in. Gia was in the living room, sitting on a sofa, while Kristen was on her easy chair.

“I’d normally recommend roses,” Kristen said.

“These were plentiful,” Harry said, his hard cock jutting forward, “And available.”

Harry pushed Gia to lay on the sofa, she leaned back, laid down. He put a few petals beneath her nostrils, brought the others to her vagina, pushed the stems inward.

“You’re certainly not shy about it anymore,” Kristen said.

“I love her,” Harry said, “Why hide it? Why pretend it’s a lie, when it’s the truth?”

“We push, we test, and it’s alright,” Gia said.

“This is certainly your home too,” Kristen said, “Though I’d never talk Kurt into this.”

“I treat her well, she wants this,” Harry said, “I’m willing to provide.”

“Of course, of course,” Kristen said, “Some Headmaster to let you commute if the others can’t.”

“Guess he’s got a soft spot, being the orphan and all,” Harry replied. He definitely didn’t want to go into his entire story.

Harry leaned over, kissed Gia on the cheeks, massaged Gia’s breasts. He moved his hands downward, massaged her clitoris, into her vagina. He rotating Gia onto her side, she faced Kristen. Left knee on the sofa, the right foot on the floor, Harry lifted her right leg, and pulled Gia toward him. Kristen watched as the hard cock pushed into Gia.

“Make him work for it,” Kristen said.

“He does,” Gia said, “Even after he’s satisfied.”

“I think I know of a book you need to read,” Kristen said as Harry drilled.

“After a day of being accused…” Harry held himself against her as he felt the pressure release, felt his orgasm. He pulled out, the moist tip of his dick oozed out a bit more of the off–white from his slit. Harry turned, sat on the sofa, leaned back in as Gia moved to sit next to him. Harry spread his legs. “It’s nice to have this to look forward to after everything, after practice.”

“So, which sport?” Kristen asked.

“It’s a bit eclectic,” Harry said, “We practice a lot, though.”

Gia sniffed, smelled Harry’s arm pits.

“Yep,” Gia said.

* * *

Ron and Hermione entered the Great Hall for dinner.

“Where’s the Prince of Gryffindor?” Malfoy asked.

“Buzz off Malfoy,” Ron said.

“Potter Lording over everything yet couldn’t be bothered to show up for dinner?” Malfoy asked.

“It’s Potter’s stomach,” Seamus retorted while glaring at Malfoy.

“Where’s your _Lord’s_ throne?” Malfoy asked, “The lavatory?”

Laughter and chuckles.

“Your type isn’t wanted,” Seamus said to Malfoy.

“I’d be more careful of Lord Potter, if I were you,” Malfoy sneered.

“Shove it,” Ron said, “Go to your table, and we’ll head to ours. If Harry’s not hungry, then he’s not hungry, which means more for the rest of us.”

Malfoy retreated back to the Slytherin Table.

“Nice going Weasley,” Seamus said as Ron sat.

“Yeah, whatever,” Ron said.

“Where is Potter?” Seamus asked Ron.

“You know my reply,” Ron said, “Why bother asking?”

Ron reached for the crusted deep fried chicken.

“They’re going to keep asking,” Hermione said.

“Hu—humph!” Ron managed between bites.

Ron went through three legs, two thighs, a breast, and two wings, before he grabbed a baked potato.

“It is odd,” Ginny said, “Harry’s rarely around, what is he up to?”

“Sex,” Ron said, “I’d wager he’s spending all his time _banging_ , so don’t interrupt him!”

“That’s all that seems to be on your mind Ronald,” Hermione said.

“It’s the most important fact of life,” Dean said, “Well, football…and maybe Quidditch.”

“Doubt Harry misses a beat, orgasms every day, and that’s without wanking,” Ron said.

Neville blushed.

“Where’s Potter finding that much action—at Hogwarts?” Seamus asked.

“Trade secret,” Ron replied.

“You’re always saying that,” Seamus said.

“Means he’s not interested in telling _you_ ,” Hermione snapped.

Snickers were aimed at Seamus. They kept eating. After they ate, Ron followed Hermione to the library.

“Lemme guess, the restricted section?” Hermione asked.

“Nice idea,” Ron said.

Hermione, though, did got to a more secluded section, but not the restricted section. Ron pushed down the front of his trousers, the boxers, to expose his penis and balls as he sat. He pulled Hermione’s skirt down as she sat, brought her bare butt onto his groin.

“You just had to—” Hermione started.

“Gotta make sure it all works,” Ron whispered as his dick stiffened fast, the erection pushed up against her, “Yeah, can you study better?”

“Like that’ll get me to focus,” Hermione said.

“Okay, finish the job?” Ron asked.

He pushed her a bit as he slid to get his butt closer to the edge. His hands slipped beneath her cloth, felt as he threaded his hard dick into her folds.

“Better?” Ron asked.

“Trying?” Hermione asked.

“Need an answer, yes or no,” Ron said.

“A minute,” Hermione said.

“Alright, a minute,” Ron said.

Ron quickly flexed his hips, worked to let his shaft drill into her. He tried waiting until he felt her, but realized his minute was nearly up. He pulled out, the skirt had worked itself a bit looser, so his hard cock wobbled a bit as it was aimed up in front of Hermione when he felt the surge. His first pulse sailed upward, became a small beaded trail across the hard oak of the table, trailing off to the softening cock beneath it.

“Okay, I’ll let you finish the job,” Hermione said.

Ron moved back in the chair, she sat on the wood between Ron’s legs, his spent dick softened against her back tail bone. Ron leaned in from behind, pushed his chest against her back, and reached around. His hands went back down, felt for the carpet, the crevice, the clitoris with his left while his right fingers moved into the doorway.

“You’re not planning to study, are you?” Hermione asked.

“You _are_ my most important study,” Ron said softly, his mouth inches from her left ear. He sniffed, licked.

Hermione took out her parchment, placed it to the right of Ron’s sticky trail on the table, began to revise her Transfiguration essay.

* * *

Hoot! Hoot!

Harry woke to the sensation of cold steel along his cock. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the low light. Ant was starkers, on top of Harry, but she held a measuring tape along his hard erection.

“Okay, seven,” Ant whispered at the boy standing in the doorway, “Bit bigger.”

Stephen blushed.

“Why?” Harry asked.

“He got a bit flustered when I measured his five and a half,” Ant said, “But his is thicker, even if it’s lacking this thing—” she tugged on Harry’s foreskin, “His is clean.”

“Get off!” Harry barked.

“What’s going on?” Gia asked as she woke.

“His is bigger this way,” Ant said as she curled her fingers around Harry’s shaft.

“Off!” Harry grumbled. He placed his hands onto her loins, pushed upward.

Ant stood.

“Stephen needs it!” Ant snapped.

“Mind waiting—until morning?!” Harry stammered.

“He was nervous,” Ant said.

“No…no…” Stephen said, shaking his head, his own circumcised penis hung there.

“You’re worried about size?” Gia asked Ant.

“His…” Harry held his foreskin “…got cut off! That’s why it’s different.”

“All that matters is that he loves you and that it works,” Gia said, “Five—seven inches, as long as it’s not choking you when you try to blow, or disembowels as you fuck!”

“What’s the commotion?” Richard asked, coming into the bedroom.

“She wanted to know how big my todger is!” Harry said, pointing to Ant.

“Why’d you risk bringing Stephen?” Richard said to Ant, “You just got out of jail and are on restriction—”

“Restrict _this_!” Ant exclaimed. Her foot rose fast, aimed between Richard’s legs, kicked his exposed genitals, striking his bollocks. “Cooties!” She recoiled her foot, hopped. “Now I have to amputate!”

Richard howled, clutched his sack.

“Ouch,” Stephen said.

“ANDREA!” Kristen shouted, coming out into the landing, “Sorry Stephen, she’s not allowed to have guests.”

“Bye,” Stephen said.

Stephen went to Ant’s bedroom, hurriedly dressed before he quickly left house. Kristen marched Ant back to the bedroom; Richard closed the door with him inside Gia’s bedroom.

“Drawback with being starkers,” Richard said, “No guesswork on where to kick.”

“Take it easy,” Gia said, “Maybe Jen’ll kiss them?”

“Worth a try,” Richard said. He opened the door, went out, and closed the door as he left.

Harry rolled over, onto Gia. She drew the blanket over them both.

“You meant that, what you said?” Harry asked.

“You and Ron have different todgers, right?” Gia asked.

“Suppose so,” Harry said.

“Both work,” Gia said, “I’ll play with them, after that, does it matter?”

“Guess not,” Harry said.

Harry went back to sleep.

* * *

“Ant actually measured it?” Richard asked the next morning, as he and Harry took off for their morning run, they started with a slower jog.

“Yeah,” Harry said, feeling the soreness in his muscles.

Richard glanced at the loose sausage hanging from Harry’s front.

“It does seem long,” Richard said, “It’s not even trying to hide your bollocks.”

“Thank you,” Harry grumbled.

“Why shake the compliment?” Richard said, “How long was it?”

“Seven inches,” Harry said, a spasm in his leg.

“Gia knows every one of those inches?” Richard asked.

“Likely better than me by now,” Harry said, “Sure, you’re seeing it, but then Ant puts a tape measure against it.”

“Better yours than mine,” Richard said.

Harry glanced at the shrunken mass, trying to move up into a small roll of fat on Richard’s stomach.

“It’s alright,” Harry said.

“When I measure, I’m lucky to get four!” Richard said, “It’s too short to even bother hiding my balls.”

“No hiding your balls then,” Harry said, “Here.”

Harry stopped at the corner, he massaged his dick, stiffened it.

“Nowhere near close,” Richard said.

“I’m still feeling it—ow—ouch!” Harry rubbed his leg, a cramp, a charley horse, set in. “Ahhh…”

“Need to go back?” Richard asked.

“I’ll be fine,” Harry said, “Here.”

Harry moved his cock toward Richard, pushed it along side Richard’s todger. Richard plied his skin, the circumcised penis rose, to be just over half the length of Harry’s.

“See?” Richard said.

“It pleases Jen, right?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Richard replied.

“Takes real balls to show the tackle off, even if Ant has to try to take them out,” Harry said.

“Don’t give her ideas,” Richard said, “Thinking we might want to try a hike again.”

“Sounds fun,” Harry said, “We’ll get you over your hangups, we’ll watch you bang.”

“Pervert,” Richard said.

“I simply love Gia,” Harry said, “I don’t mind the witnesses, that’s all.”

“I heard Mum talking with Dad,” Richard said, “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Harry said.

They resumed jogging. Harry felt the tension still in his legs, he fought through it.

“You banged Gia—in front of her?” Richard asked.

“Yep,” Harry said.

“I couldn’t,” Richard said.

“I’m not suggesting you bang Gia,” Harry said, “Bang Jen for your Mum instead.”

“Not happening,” Richard replied.

“Your loss,” Harry said.

“Mum likes you, you’ve got that going for you,” Richard said, “She’s flattered that you felt that comfortable, to actually bang like that.”

“Lets face it,” Harry said, “We’ve got the todger but no user manual, we’re winging it. Getting advice so that Gia’s got a better experience—sure, I’ll do it.”

“Even if you’re a bit weird, she likes that you two clearly appreciate the hospitality,” Richard said, “She’d be ecstatic if you taught Ant that.”

“Perhaps it’s because we’re orphans,” Harry replied.

“I think that endears you even more to Mum,” Richard said, “Still, short dick or not, you’re fun to run with.”

“Thanks,” Harry said.

They kept running, bare buttocks mooning every person they ran past, along with a couple of puddles, before their pubic hair made it back to 26 Oak. Gia was already dressed for school, with Snuffles there.

“Sorry, I’d wait, but I’ve got to get a book from the library before class,” Gia said.

“Should’ve done it yesterday,” Richard said.

“I tried,” Gia said, “See you tonight.” She kissed Harry, her right fingers brushed against his hard dick.

Jen walked with Gia, Snuffles followed, as they left. Harry and Richard entered the house, went up the stairs, raced, and entered the bathroom. Harry got to the shower first.

“Just get in,” Harry said.

Harry turned on the water as Richard stepped in.

“This isn’t comfortable,” Richard said.

“Like your locker rooms are any more so?” Harry said, after he got himself wet.

They changed places, Richard slipped underneath the water.

“Don’t you have one at school?” Richard asked as Harry lathered himself up.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “Those have been…problematic. It’s better to shower here than there.”

They switched, Harry began to rinse himself.

“Sorry about earlier,” Richard said, “It’s a fine todger you’ve got.”

“Don’t worry about yours,” Harry said, “It’s only a problem if you want it to be a problem.”

Harry stepped out, grabbed a towel, dried himself.

“Nothing like a ruler to make me self–conscious over it,” Richard said.

“Very self–conscious,” Harry said, “Catch you tonight.”

Harry went to Gia’s bedroom, slung the strap over his shoulder so his bookbag rested on his buttocks, grabbed his Portkey, and activated it. Harry landed on his four–poster bed in Hogwarts, got out. Ron was laying, downward, on his bed, head near the foot, covers off so the bare buttocks and back were upright.

“Suppose you ran again,” Ron said, “How’d you do it?”

“Dunno, get up a bit earlier,” Harry said, coming over.

Harry leaned his head against the top brace, glanced down at Ron; though Harry’s dick was still hard, this time, aimed toward Ron. Harry didn’t think about the proximity of his glans to Ron’s face, though it was close.

“Making me look bad,” Ron said.

“Where’s Hermione?” Harry asked.

“In the shower,” Ron said.

“You’re not in there with her,” Harry said.

“Got news for you, she’s not like Gia,” Ron said, “She doesn’t always want company in the shower—” he sniffed at the hard cock “—you already took yours.”

“Hey, up for a hike this weekend?” Harry said, “Richard’s thinking about having one.”

“This is your—hike?” Ron asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “No clothes.”

“Gia? Hermione?” Ron asked.

“Both can come,” Harry said.

“Have to think about it,” Ron said, “And will you stop teasing!”

“What?” Harry asked.

“This!” Ron leaned a bit forward, mouth surrounded Harry’s cock.

Harry stood there, braced himself, as Ron licked the glans, the foreskin, and tickled the balls, when Hermione came out of the shower, towel around her. Hermione watched as Harry stumbled as he felt the spasms. Ron pulled back, and Harry’s tip spewed the thick semen, dribbling onto Ron’s sheets.

“Oh,” Hermione said.

“It was an emergency,” Ron stated.

“Obviously,” Hermione replied.

Harry yawned before he went to his trunk, got his clothes, and dressed. Hermione and Ron dressed. They left the dormitory, went down to the Great Hall.

“Make way for Lord Potter!” Colin announced.

“What?” Harry asked Ron.

“You got a promotion last night,” Ron said, “You can thank Malfoy.”

“Malfoy referred to you as the Prince of Gryffindor ,” Hermione said as they sat.

“But I’m not,” Harry said.

“I suppose we could fashion you up a throne,” Ron said.

“No,” Harry said, “That’s not needed.”

Harry ate little, while Ron ate a lot, and Hermione ate in between. After they ate, they made their way to Hagrid’s for Care of Magical Creatures. Harry led the way, fast, approached Hagrid before the rest got there

“Can I talk to you after class?” Harry asked.

“You always can,” Hagrid replied.

“Got something to ask, later,” Harry said.

Harry joined up with the others as his classmates showed up.

* * *

After their afternoon Potions lesson, Harry activated his Portkey. Ron brought Hermione out to the Quidditch Pitch, where it was sunny.

“Roger Davies isn’t going to let you take the field,” Hermione said.

They went up into the stands.

“I can still watch,” Ron said.

“You deliberately blew Harry,” Hermione said.

“Is that’s what been bugging you?” Ron said, “Harry accepted it, the end.”

“Didn’t realize you’d stoop—” Hermione started.

“Stoop?” Ron said, “ _You_ were the one that forced us to make up.”

“That was months ago, far, far, away,” Hermione said.

“Did it occur to you that me might have _liked_ it?” Ron asked.

“You clearly didn’t,” Hermione said, “I know about last week’s package, of course.”

“It’s not like it’s the top of the list,” Ron said, “It’s more like how you’ll suck me, or I’ll lick you, we do it to make the other feel good, to get bliss, because we love each other enough to get over the disgusting part of it. I’ll blow him from time to time, like he’s blown me.”

“I didn’t realize you stayed with it,” Hermione said.

“Not all the bloody time,” Ron said, “Just occasionally.”

Roger Davies glared at Ron and Hermione up in the stands, but got the Ravenclaw team together to begin practice.

* * *

Harry landed Wednesday morning on his bed at Hogwarts; his loose balls slid on the bed cover as he climbed out. He put his bookbag down, with his wand and his Portkey. Harry restored the curtains back to their closed state when the door opened. Harry did not have enough time to reach for his trunk when the crowd, led by Colin, swarmed into the dormitory. Colin grabbed an arm. Neville grabbed a leg. Dean took the another leg, while Ginny took Harry’s other arm. They all lifted Harry off the ground.

“Whoa—whoa!” Harry exclaimed.

Quickly, Harry was carried down the steps, into the common room, where most of the house was gathered. On the table, a porcelain throne, a toilet, and Harry was sat down onto the seat, a seat that was elevated a foot above the bowl, his testicles on display for all to see. Colin grabbed his camera, took pictures.

“All hail Lord Potter, Prince of Gryffindor!” yelled Seamus.

“I’m not even dressed!” Harry complained.

“Nothing’s too immodest,” Dean said, “Our emperor needs no clothes.”

“You did it anyways?” Ron asked, coming down from the girls’ dormitories.

“Go ahead, christen it,” Colin said, camera aimed, taking pictures.

It took Harry a moment to understand the request, another to get it started, and fortunate that it had been too cold during the run to get it properly moving. A push and a clench, a push and a clench; Colin aimed his camera.

Click!

Another clench.

Pfffpt!

Harry’s anus began to dilate as the sphincter relaxed. Colin kept taking pictures, the group cheered as the sludge began to drop. Harry’s dick began to pee, claps of applause filled the room.

“You actually wanted to watch me take a shit?” Harry asked.

“A reminder that you’re as common as us,” Seamus said.

A long drop, plus several smaller ones, before Harry came to a stop. Quickly, Ginny took some toilet paper, wiped Harry’s arse.

“Why?” Harry asked.

“Make Malfoy eat his words,” Ron said.

A first year girl, one Harry didn’t recognize, wiped his dick, pulled the foreskin back over the glans.

“Come on, time for breakfast!” Seamus exclaimed.

Justin and Paul Prewett brought one sock each to Harry’s feet. Ginny wove Harry’s trousers to his feet, pulled them up, but stopped long enough to fondle his genitals for a half minute, before Harry stood and the trousers put on. His feet were lifted to put his shoes on. He was carried down to the floor before his arms were moved to put his shirt on. His jumper, his tie, went on similarly.

“That’s quite enough,” Harry said.

“Nonsense,” Dean said, whistling.

Several fourth year boys brought over a chair bound to two long poles. Harry was moved to sit in the chair. Each of the fourth years grunted as they lifted the poles, lifted Harry, so the chair was suspended between them. Neville carried Harry’s bookbag as Harry left the common room, on the chair.

“I can walk,” Harry offered.

“Royalty don’t walk,” Dean replied, “They get chauffeured everywhere.”

Harry was carried down the steps, to the Great Hall.

“Blimey!” Malfoy exclaimed, “What the fuck is this?”

“Be kind to the Prince of Gryffindor,” Dean said.

“Prince?!” Malfoy said, “I’ve never heard of such rubbish in my life!”

Harry was lowered at the head of the table, the chair moved into position. Ron sat to Harry’s right; Hermione sat to Ron’s right.

“It’s not funny,” Harry said.

“Yes it is,” Ron said, “Are you going to eat or do I need to suggest they help?”

“Alright! Alright!” Harry grumbled. He took a sausage patty.

Ron vacuumed several platters into his mouth, before he let out a large burp.

BURP! BURP!

“Ready for class?” Seamus asked.

“Yes,” Harry said.

Seamus whistled, the fourth years came over, lifted the chair and carried Harry out of the Great Hall. They went down the steps into the dungeon. Professor Snape glared as Harry was brought into the classroom. Harry let out a brief cackle. Colin’s camera kept taking pictures.

“Twenty five points from Gryffindor,” Professor Snape said.

The fourth years quickly took the chair, and its poles, away; Colin left. Quickly, everybody else got to work on their potions.

* * *

At the end of the Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, Professor Tonks escorted Harry into the small office. Professor Lupin was there, brewing a bit of tea.

“Hello Harry,” Professor Lupin said, “Thought we’d have a little chat, over lunch, sound alright?”

“Yeah, sure,” Harry said.

Professor Tonks brought over a platter of sandwiches, set them onto the small round table. Harry sat, waited for the tea to cool. Professor Lupin sat to the other side.

“I understand that Severus Snape was not pleased this morning,” Professor Lupin said.

“Not my fault—” Harry started.

“It’s always your fault when it comes to Snape,” Professor Lupin said, “It’s simply because you are you, so it’s not really your fault, even if Snape makes it out to be.”

“The others—they decided I was a prince!” Harry said.

“The chair was a nice touch,” Professor Lupin said.

“Have to ask Mr. Creevy if he took any pictures,” Professor Tonks said.

“Colin loves taking those pictures,” Harry said.

“Yes, I must take a bit of the blame Harry,” Professor Lupin said, “You seemed to be getting off to a bad start within Gryffindor this year. I suggested to Miss. Weasley that a little festivity might get it back to normal. Evidently, she got carried away.”

“It was…different,” Harry said.

“I imagine it was,” Professor Lupin said.

“Enough small talk,” Professor Tonks said.

“Yes,” Professor Lupin said, “I understand that you’re still having difficulty in Professor Tonks’ lessons. Specifically, the inability to cast particular curses.”

“I’m not a killer!” Harry said, the rage of it coming to him, “That’s what you’re trying to turn me into! I’d rather flunk.”

“If it were any other student, we’d let them make that choice,” Professor Lupin said, “I know you wish to be ordinary, but you are different. Specifically, Lord Voldemort.”

“Professor Dumbledore will have a way,” Harry said.

“The Headmaster is convinced that your path and Lord Voldemort’s will cross again,” Professor Lupin said, “And that you will have to cast that decisive blow. How do are you going to deal with Lord Voldemort? A tickling charm?”

“No,” Harry stated, though he wondered whether a tickling charm could work.

“We can always hope that Lord Voldemort stubs his toe and it becomes a lethal injury, but that is highly unlikely,” Professor Lupin said, “We are not turning you into a monster. Lord Voldemort is not going to relent until either you are dead or you kill him. Albus Dumbledore doesn’t see any other way around it. So class, or no class, you need to be able to use the Killing Curse, because I don’t want to be reading that you’ve been killed by Lord Voldemort.”

“It’s admirable, Harry, to never want to use the Killing Curse,” Professor Tonks said, “Many Aurors never have to either. But it’s good to know it, to be able to use it, whether it’s to save your own neck, or those that you love, or those you’re sworn to protect.”

“I swore, to the bodies of your parents, to look out after you,” Professor Lupin said, “I can’t always be there to stop an attack, but I can teach you to help yourself, and that’s what Professor Tonks is trying to do.”

“I can’t cast it,” Harry said, “I can cast anything else, but sorry, I can’t cast that one.”

“Then you best hope that fits of laughter kills him,” Professor Lupin said, “Eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” Harry said, standing, “Thank you.”

“We really do care about you, remember that,” Professor Lupin said.

Harry grabbed his bookbag, left the office. Harry’s mind was ablaze, he didn’t want to become a killer, a murderer, under any circumstance; he needed another voice, and he decided to go and visit Hagrid. Harry went down the stairs, walked along the first floor corridor.

“Seize him!” Ernie barked, pointed from the Hospital Wing, at Harry.

“What?!” Harry stammered.

Ernie came over, eyes glaring at Harry.

“Seamus thought it was silly when Ginny suggested it, to mend the wounds,” Ernie said, “This is how you repay, attempted murder?”

“What?!” Harry stammered.

“Mr. Potter,” Professor McGonagall said as she came out of the Hospital Wing.

“Expel him!” Ernie spat.

“That is for me to decide,” Professor McGonagall said, “Mr. Potter, please follow.”

Harry followed Professor McGonagall to her office. Ernie loitered outside as she closed the door.

“I don’t understand,” Harry said.

“Where have you been?” Professor McGonagall asked as she stood behind her desk. Her thin mouth bore no hint of smiling.

“I was just with Professor Lupin and Tonks,” Harry said.

“Mr. Seamus Finnigan was beaten on the fifth floor,” Professor McGonagall said, “I would’ve been fatal if it weren’t for Mr. Ernie Macmillan intervening. Professor Dumbledore has already interviewed, and Mr. Macmillan was sincere in identifying you as the perpetrator.”

“I didn’t—” Harry said, “Professor Tonks and Lupin talked to me after class. Will Seamus be alright?”

“Most likely,” Professor McGonagall said, “Madam Pomfrey stated that another kick or two to the neck would have finished him off. You understand our predicament?”

“Yes,” Harry said, “But _I_ didn’t do it.”

“Fortunately Professor Dumbledore is of the same opinion,” Professor McGonagall said, “I strongly advise you refrain from scandalous behavior — that includes those rumors that I have been hearing regarding certain indiscretions.”


	24. Hermione 16

Thursday afternoon, Harry escorted Gia down the steps from the dormitory into the common room. Gia had her nice slacks and one of Ron’s school jumpers. Harry was in his Quidditch robes, but barefoot and with only those robes on him, and carried his Firebolt in his left hand.

“You brought her here?” Hermione asked.

“She wanted to see us practice,” Harry said.

“Come along Hermione,” Ron said as he entered the common room, also barefoot with just the robes over him, “Please?”

Hermione sighed, gathered her books, stuffed her bag, and followed. The four of them left the castle, went down to the Quidditch Pitch.

“Keep Gia safe,” Harry said to Hermione.

Hermione escorted Gia up into the tall stands, sat.

“They do this a lot, right?” Gia asked.

“Every chance they can get, or take,” Hermione said. She recalled Ginny’s description of Oliver Wood’s rant.

“How dangerous can it get?” Gia asked.

“Practice? Not too bad,” Hermione said, “It’s the matches to watch out for.”

Gia removed the jumper, showed that there was no shirt beneath, her breasts hung freely.

“Harry put you up to this?” Hermione asked.

“It’s Harry and Ron,” Gia said, “They _like_ seeing me, and I don’t mind.”

“Don’t put pressure on me!” Hermione said.

“You’re only pressuring yourself,” Gia said, “Remember our trip?”

“I won’t forget it,” Hermione said, still easily able to remember their lack of modesty, which had been, overall, fun. However, this was Hogwarts, not muggle Europe.

“Hey!” Ginny shouted.

Both Harry and Ron were starkers as they mounted their brooms.

“In other words, they want to fly hard,” Hermione said.

“Show em your tits,” Gia said.

“I’m not a sex doll,” Hermione said.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Gia said.

Harry and Ron flew up.

“Hi,” Harry said, his dick was already hard.

Ron’s was stiffening.

“Pay attention Hermione,” Ron said, “This practice is for _you_.”

Harry and Ron flew to the team.

“Figures,” Hermione said.

“We’ve got two guys with the hots for us,” Gia said, “Let it sink in.”

Hermione knew the day, was unsure if Ron knew, but figured she knew how the day would end. Ron’s hard cock likely had a plan. Hermione sat there, watching, because both boys were naked, and she appreciated the balls hanging beneath them, both touching the handles of their brooms. Neither Harry nor Ron were complicated with them both letting their brains out to show.

“Over here!” Ron shouted.

Ron flew to the stand, turned so his back was toward Hermione as Justin and Paul Prewett came over. Ron’s buttocks were close, still with a bit of baby roundness, the twigs of his Firebolt obscured the anus, though the cheeks were apart. Ron grabbed the bat from Justin, swung.

Crack!

The bat hit the Bludger, the ball flew up.

“At least show her your todger!” Justin said.

Ron spun on the broom, gave Hermione the side profile. Hands lifted from the handle, knees moved it down, leaving his hard cock jutting outward, the balls hanging, while his foreskin retracted to expose the deep pink glans.

“Like it?” Ron asked Hermione.

Hermione took her time.

“She does,” Gia replied.

Slowly, the broom had already been creeping downward. Ron gripped the handle, flew away.

“You can’t tell me you didn’t like that,” Gia said.

“Of course I did,” Hermione said, “I’ll expect Harry—”

Harry came down from over the top of the stand. He hovered, faced downward, pushed the broom to the side so it supported him on a diagonal. Harry’s anus bared between the parted cheeks, the bollocks hung down, while the hard erection jutted downward with his legs.

Pfffpt!

“Lovely,” Hermione said.

Harry flew.

“You can’t deny that,” Gia said.

“No, I can’t,” Hermione said.

“Did you like it?” Gia asked.

“Of course,” Hermione said.

“Stop trying to make it so complicated,” Gia said, “They simply want to make you smile, to laugh, as they make a show out of themselves.”

“Certainly a show,” Hermione said.

“Just relax and enjoy it,” Gia said.

“I’m trying,” Hermione said.

Hermione knew that Gia was right, in her habit to over complicate things. As intelligent as Harry and Ron were, as much as Harry and Ron misspent that intelligence, they were simple on this front, being careful but also free, in letting her and Gia borrow their dicks. Harry and Ron cared deeply, both getting her to lighten up.

“Next?” Gia asked as Harry landed on the stands after the practice.

“This way,” Ron said, landing next to Hermione.

Ron and Harry led the way down the stairs; Gia and Hermione followed. Both pairs of bare buttocks kept Hermione’s eyes focused as Harry and Ron grabbed their Quidditch robes laying on the grass. Neither Harry nor Ron bothered to put the robes on, instead, carried them as they walked.

“You don’t even have to take a leak?” Hermione asked.

“It’ll hurt, but I’m holding out,” Harry said.

“Me too,” Ron said.

“Where are we heading?” Hermione asked.

“It’s a surprise,” Harry said.

Hermione wondered about this, what sort of Quidditch would be involved, until they approached Hagrid’s hut.

“This?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, this,” Harry said, as he walked up to the steps.

Knock! Knock!

“Hello arry,” Hagrid said as he opened the door, “This way.”

Harry and Ron leaned their Firebolts against the wall after they entered. Harry’s and Ron’s robes fell into a pile by the bristles. Gia dropped the jumper on top. Hermione and Gia sat on the one bench, while Harry and Ron sat on the other, both sets of balls hung over the edge.

“ust a inute,” Hagrid said, back turned, “Baked it myself.”

Hagrid turned around, a cake with six candles.

“Happy Birthday!” Ron started, joined in with Hagrid and Harry, “Sixteen!”1

“Make a wish,” Harry said.

“Already done,” Ron said, “Her wish has come true, we’re both naked for her birthday.”

Hermione snorted, before she huffed, blew out the candles.

“I remember you younguns,” Hagrid said, “Showed up years ago, yeh grown up.”

“You can say that,” Harry said.

Hermione stared at him and Ron, both with their hard erections jutting freely toward her. Both were innocent boys that first train ride, a pile of sweets between them, boys who were initially hesitant but have grown to love her, unconditionally. Maybe she had become too harsh on them with their antics. Ron had let his todger become her favorite toy, and Harry was more than happy to lend his too. Their only desire was a genuine smile on her face, and they typically succeeded, even though she had learned years earlier to not let that smile actually show, most of the time.

“Here yeh go,” Hagrid said, handing a plate to her with a slice of the cake.

Harry took a plate, nibbled at it. Hermione tried hers, and kinda agreed with Harry, fed hers to Fang when Hagrid wasn’t looking. Harry snorted, smiled at her. Ron ate about half, while Gia abstained.

“Just a moment,” Ron said.

Ron moved to kneel on the floor, he bent over, his bare buttocks were toward Hermione. Ron grabbed two packages from beneath the bench.

“Get mine,” Harry said.

“Already did,” Ron replied.

Ron handed the two packages to Hermione. Hermione opened the first one, from Harry; it was a model of a galloping horse, with two people on it, Ron on the back, Hermione in front of him.

“Thank you,” Hermione said.

“And mine,” Ron said.

Hermione opened the other package. It was a long slender clip of silver metal, the front clip smaller than the back, and a red and gold tassel from its root. Its front was shaped and etched to resemble Ron’s dick, while the back was shaped like his loose testicles, though otherwise paper thin.

“It’s…?” Hermione asked.

“A bookmark,” Ron said, “Better than an ordinary bookmark, it’ll remember where it was, so you can use it in other books.

“Interesting,” Hermione said.

“You’re always losing your place otherwise,” Ron said, “This’ll help.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said.

They heard the bell from the castle.

“Don’t be late for supper,” Hagrid said, “Congratulations, ermione.”

Harry grabbed his Firebolt, his robes; Ron did the same. Gia grabbed her jumper. Hermione followed as they went into the cold as they left the hut. Both Ron’s and Harry’s dicks softened, fast.

“That was nice of you,” Hermione said.

“You’re important, we’re not letting that slip by,” Ron said.

“Obviously,” Hermione said.

They headed for the Castle.

“Surprised you’ve not vanished already,” Hermione said.

“There’s another part to this,” Ron said.

Hermione had a shrewd idea that turned close to it, when they came to the fifth floor. Harry spoke the password to the door, and they entered the Prefects’ bathroom.

“Surprise!” Hermione exclaimed, a bit under–enthusiastic, as Gia dropped the trousers, stood naked in the room.

Harry knelt, turned the taps, the pool began to fill.

“Hermione!” Ron exclaimed.

“Let me,” Gia said.

Gia turned to Hermione. Hermione stared into those blue eyes, not Ron’s, but Gia’s.

“I know how this’ll turn out,” Hermione said.

“So?” Gia said, “Relax, that’s all they’re asking. Here.”

Gia pulled Hermione’s jumper off, worked the buttons.

“Those two boys _want_ to be your sex dolls for tonight,” Gia said, “Their gift, to you. What you do with them is up to you. I’m full of ideas.”

“I’m sure you are,” Hermione replied.

“If you need them,” Gia said, “Here, wanna make them jealous?”

“Sure,” Hermione said. Hermione found herself more willing to trust herself to Gia than either Ron or Harry.

Gia pulled Hermione’s shirt off, the lack of a bra apparent. Gia worked her belt, lowered her trousers, before her panties fell.

“Looking good!” Ron said.

Gia moved her head toward Hermione’s, the lips planted together, while Gia’s fingers held the head. Hermione hadn’t experienced this before. She had seen Harry and Ron do it, but this was a first as another girl started to kiss.

POP!

“Dobby happy to serve Harry Potter!” Dobby exclaimed, as a small buffet appeared on a table.

“Dobby,” Harry said, as he approached Dobby, “Think they need some toys.”

“Dobby has seen this,” Dobby said, “Dobby knows.”

POP!

A long, slender, dildo, already vibrating, appeared in Harry’s hand as Dobby vanished.

“I’ve already got a todger!” Ron said.

“Just in case they need it,” Harry said, putting the self–vibrating dildo onto the table.

A low hum came from the table as Ron helped himself to the chicken.

“Here,” Gia said.

Gia brought Hermione down, to lay on a heated pad on the floor.

“Our plan is for you to be sexually stimulate, completely, tonight,” Gia said, “Is that okay?”

“I guess so,” Hermione said.

“You already know your mind,” Gia said, “Trust your body to us, alright?”

“Yes,” Hermione said.

“Both of them belong to you,” Gia said, “Think about that.”

“Watch this,” Harry said, reaching for a bag to the side.

Harry brought out a jump rope, walked to Hermione’s left, and swung the rope between his hands. Harry jumped; Hermione watched his todger fly upward to hit the pubic hair covered lower abdomen before swinging back down. Harry jumped and jumped, the todger kept swinging upward, his balls bounced with his gait.

“See?” Gia said.

The pad slid, turned into a floating mattress that grew some bumpers to keep her in; a pillow formed beneath her head. Hermione felt the hot water sooth over her, while Harry kept jumping. Hermione’s eyes stayed focused on this boy, the same one who treated Ron to the trolley spoils many years earlier, the boy content on his flailing todger being her entertainment.

“How’d you do that?” Ron asked Harry, “That rope?”

“Dunno, just do,” Harry said.

Hermione kept her focus, Ron stayed there, the red pubic hair on display, while Harry kept jumping. Both todgers, both bollocks, had long since become familiar to her, both to the kindest boys she’s ever known, her boys. Gia, though, stood in the pool, massaged Hermione’s submerged breasts and worked downward. Harry, though, did come to a stop, he came over, knelt on the edge of the pool; his balls, his todger hung right above her.

“Watch this,” Harry said, gripping his todger.

The mattress seemed to know, floated a bit higher, leaving her out of the water as the golden yellow started to pour out. She watched the pee jet out of him as he peed, it got onto her abdomen.

“Um…” Hermione started.

“Relax,” Gia said.

“It’s…it’s…” Hermione stuttered as the warmth from the liquid poured onto her chest.

“Personal,” Gia said, “Yes, seems icky at first, but understand how personal that is. This stuff, he’s sharing, it was inside him, as personal as an orgasm, even more so. Harry’s got to relax, to be comfortable that you’d accept it.”

“Sounds like you two had this planned,” Hermione said.

“I got us the reservation,” Ron said.

“It’s about _you_ ,” Gia said to Hermione, “Getting _you_ to experience a couple of new things, to share what Harry and I do a lot.”

“Piss,” Ron said, “I know Harry gets off on it.”

“That too,” Harry said, “Hermione, you’re my friend too.”

“You piss on friends?” Hermione asked.

“Tradition,” Ron said, “Mind?” Ron gripped his cock.

“Go ahead,” Hermione said, sarcastically.

It was as Ron began to piss that Hermione realized that Ron hadn’t picked up on it, instead, Ron’s slit dribbled a moment as the stream formed. Ron peed, moved his dick so it went across her breasts.

“See?” Gia said, “They’ll do anything for you.”

Hermione studied the stiffening cocks directly over her. She liked them, loved them, but it didn’t seem right that they’d get into her, not here, but they deserved to be rewarded.

“They’ll get something,” Hermione said.

Neither Harry nor Ron flinched as Hermione’s fingers reached up, felt and teased their loose testicles.

“I need the toy,” Gia said.

Harry put his hand up, the dildo flew to him.

“Good somebody remembers the wandless magic,” Hermione said.

“See, wandless?” Gia snapped at Harry.

“It’s not good magic,” Hermione said, “Suitable in a pinch.”

Hermione began to relax as the vibration touched her clitoris, her muscles soaked it in as the mattress seemed to respond to her desire for water and sunk a bit, submerged her, until her head was still above the water, but everything else was in the hot water. She brought Harry’s balls toward Ron’s when it occurred to her.

“Sex,” Hermione said, “You said you’d do anything, right?”

“Yes,” Harry and Ron replied.

“I understand Ron did it to you last week,” Hermione said, “So Harry, bang Ron, in the arse.”

“Kinky,” Gia said.

“Um…” Harry stuttered.

“You said anything,” Hermione said.

“This is going to hurt,” Ron said.

“I want to watch it,” Hermione said.

“Here,” Harry said, turning Ron until his butt was toward the water.

Harry got onto the mattress, both knees to either side of Hermione’s head. For a moment, the mattress swayed before it regained. Ron trembled for a moment, Hermione studied Ron’s hard erection above her, the balls dangling, while Gia worked the vibrator into the carpet. Jolt after jolt, each tingle of the vibration from the dildo permeated Hermione’s delicate skin, it began to respond as the two pairs of bollocks were over her. Both like hanging marshmallows, the tip of Harry’s hard cock rested on Ron’s anus.

“Ready?” Harry asked.

“Get it over with,” Ron said, bending forward to let his anus open.

“Take your time,” Hermione said.

Hermione watched, both sets of bollocks seemed perfect as she felt the wave after wave coming over her, the crescendo of emotion swept through her, the bearing down that helped her focus on Harry’s hard cock pushing into Ron’s arse. Harry’s shaft disappeared as his testicles came to greet Ron’s.

“My, my, are we being naughty?” Moaning Myrtle asked.

“Keep going,” Hermione said.

“You’re enjoying it!” Moaning Myrtle snapped.

“Yes,” Hermione said.

“They should switch places,” Moaning Myrtle said, joining Hermione in watching the balls hanging beneath Ron and Harry.

“Next time,” Hermione said.

Harry waited while Hermione held the testicles together. She felt Harry’s and Ron’s, together. Harry’s…Ron’s…Harry’s…back and forth a few times.

“Pinch them,” Moaning Myrtle said.

Hermione, though, felt relaxed, the dildo in her as Gia moved back to the breasts. She watched as Harry began to pull. Harry’s hard shaft slid, as Harry rocked his hips, and he began to drill, slowly.

“We all love you,” Gia whispered to Hermione.

“Yeah,” Hermione said.

Hermione couldn’t argue, this vibrator seemed to know exactly what to vibrate, the whole body orgasm continued, wave after wave, making her admire the brown stain that was starting to form on Harry’s shaft, the one thrusting in Ron. Maybe Ron was right, she reasoned, that Harry and Gia were good role models, that sex should be routine, daily. However, Hermione couldn’t bring herself to admit to Ron that he was correct, instead, she’ll just let him win a bit more often. Ron still had to earn it, which he seemed eager to do as he was letting Harry fuck him in the butt, for her sake.

“How much do you need?” Ron asked.

“Keep going,” Gia said.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, “I’m not going to last.”

“Go as long as you can,” Gia said.

Hermione kept watching, the balls banging together as Harry worked Ron’s anus, the shaft going back and forth, in and out.

“Only a couple of more,” Harry said.

“What the—?” Ginny stammered as she entered; Colin with her.

“Gi—” Ron started.

Harry, though, pulled out. Hermione held the two cocks together, touched Harry’s. Her hand felt the warm sticky shot, deflected it onto Ron’s hard erection.

“We had reserved this!” Colin said.

“I thought—” Ron started, as he moved fast to stand “—ow!”

“Once Colin saw us listed, I couldn’t say no,” Ginny said, “At least I persuaded him to leave the camera in the dormitory!”

“How thoughtful,” Harry said, as he washed the brown off his dick.

“I wish you had said something,” Colin said, “We’ll come back.”

“You’ve spoiled the mood,” Ron snapped.

Ron grabbed four towels, handed them to Harry, Gia, and Hermione.

“Sorry,” Colin said.

“We’ll do it—later,” Harry said.

“And so the rumors are true? You and Ron—?” Ginny asked.

“Stay out of it!” Ron snapped.

“You should be in the dormitory,” Colin said, “It’s already past curfew.”

“Be _kind_ to my sister!” Ron retorted.

“Come on, come on, lets go,” Harry said.

Harry grabbed his robes, his Firebolt, Gia’s trousers. Ron grabbed his, while Hermione grabbed her bookbag and clothes. They left the Prefect’s bathroom, leaving Ginny and Colin in it.

“Sorry about that,” Ron said, “Thought I had made it clear.”

“This weekend?” Harry asked.

“What’s this weekend?” Hermione asked.

“We’ve already got the reservation,” Harry said, as he activated his Portkey. Gia held on and they disappeared.

“Blimey, that was a bit rude,” Ron said.

“Let’s get back,” Hermione said, the vibrator was still going within her.

Ron and Hermione went up the steps, entered the vacant Common Room. Ron brought her to the fireplace, dropped his towel, set his stuff down on the sofa, before he grabbed Hermione’s clothes.

“Your plan?” Hermione asked. Her eyes on Ron’s hard erection, still coated with Harry’s semen.

“Pickup where we left off,” Ron said, lowering her towel.

They both stood naked, next to the fire, the heat getting into them. Ron reached, held the end of the vibrator.

“That’s what this does!” Ron exclaimed.

“Want to try it?” Hermione asked. She thought it’d shut him up.

“Doesn’t fit,” Ron said.

“Yes it can,” Hermione said.

Ron tugged, pulled it out, held it. Hermione pulled on Ron’s hips, he came in close, aimed, and pushed his cock into her. Hermione felt the warm stick mess of Harry on the skin as it slipped by, and it suddenly made sense, what they have been trying to persuade her, what Harry’s intuition had told them, they weren’t alone, they were together, united, if they dropped the jealousy and simply loved, unconditionally.

“How does this fit?” Ron asked, still holding the vibrator.

“Like so,” Hermione said, grabbing it. She reached around, bent as Ron had to, inserted it into his anus.

“Aw…oh!” Ron said.

“Better?” Hermione asked.

“After you had..yes,” Ron said.

“There you are!” Seamus said, as he entered the common room, “Just got out of the Hospital Wing, no thanks to your friend—”

“Just WAIT!” Hermione snapped.

“Here?” Seamus asked, “You’re doing it here?”

“Yes,” Hermione said.

Ron drilled. Hermione finally understood Harry and Gia, unconcerned that others might see them, simply wanting to embrace, wherever it happens to be convenient. If a friend sees them, then a friend is a witness to the love that she currently felt for Ron and Ron felt for her. She recognized the expression on Ron’s face a moment before he paused, held himself fully immersed in her; she felt the pressure, the release from him he filled the chamber, and she felt the orgasms pick back up to accept his offering. Ron pulled out, semen oozing out of the slit.

“I didn’t need to see that,” Seamus said.

“Yes you did,” Hermione replied.

“I want Potter!” Seamus said to Ron, “I thought we could be nice, be friends again!”

“He’s not available until morning,” Ron said.

Ron pulled on Hermione, they went up to the girls’ dormitory. Hermione laid on her bed, Ron got onto his hands and knees, straddled her, his softer cock still had a bead hanging from it.

“Oh!” Ron said, pulling out the vibrator. It wasn’t a dildo anymore, instead, shaped like a butt plug. “Guess it’s different based on the need?”

“Dobby provisioned it,” Hermione said.

“Wonder where from,” Ron said as he laid down next to Hermione.

Hermione felt the hands moving her to be within the grab of his legs, and grasp of his arms, the hands reached around her, as he kissed her on the cheek.

“By the way,” Ron said, “Hope you had a very happy birthday.”

Hermione smiled. Ron pulled the covers over them both.

* * *

1 This story predated JKR’s revelation to Hermione’s age; thus, for this story, she’s sixteen, not seventeen.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos, QueenOfTheGarden. I do appreciate the feedback.


	25. Beans

Hermione still felt the euphoria from the previous day as they left Transfiguration in the late Friday afternoon. She paused at the bathroom, but decided against it. Ron and Harry were seconds behind her, about to turn the corner, when she pulled her top off, leaving her shirtless with her breasts hanging.

“Whoa!” Ron said, “Nice.”

“Hermione, it is Hogwarts,” Harry said.

“Funny, hasn’t stopped you,” Hermione said as they went up the stairs.

A couple of catcalls and they made it to Gryffindor Tower, climbed the stairs and entered the sixth year boys’ dormitory.

“In a hurry?” Professor Dumbledore asked, he was sitting on the chair to Harry’s study desk.

“Another hike,” Harry said, “Ron and Hermione too.”

“Stay safe,” Professor Dumbledore.

“They’re with me,” Harry said, “You don’t come up here often.”

“Mr. Potter,” Professor Dumbledore said, his hand shook on his cane, “Two first year Gryffindors, … Mr. Ruff and Mr. Alison, … were found beaten in a … desolate part of sixth floor—”

“We didn’t!” Harry protested under Professor Dumbledore’s penetrating gaze.

“Honestly!” Ron protested, “We haven’t a clue.”

“Stay vigilant,” Professor Dumbledore said.

Ron and Harry quickly stripped. Hermione stripped a bit slower.

“Yes, one of those hikes,” Harry said.

“Aw, youth,” Professor Dumbledore said, “It would be … nice to be young … again.”

Harry grabbed his backpack. Ron grabbed his, made no secret of his erection as he watched Hermione finish. Harry activated his Portkey; Ron and Hermione held on.

“You might have well told him that we’re hiking naked!” Hermione said as they landed in Noigate.

“He knows!” Harry said, “Dumbledore knows and even approves!”

Hermione left the bedroom.

“Turn right,” Ron said.

Hermione turned right into the bathroom. Gia was standing in front of the mirror, also starkers, but applying cream to her pelvis. Hermione sat on the toilet.

“Whatchya doing?” Harry asked.

“What does it look like?” Hermione said, “She’s shaving, because you like it.”

“You mean, I like it this way,” Gia said, “That Harry loves it—a bonus.”

“Can I watch?” Harry asked.

“What’s happening?” Richard asked, coming near the door, boxers on.

“Gia’s shaving her pubes,” Harry said.

Ron, Richard, and Harry crowded into the bathroom.

“She’s just shaving!” Hermione said.

Gia, though, turned toward the boys, began to bring the razor across her skin. Hermione watched all three todgers stiffen; Richard’s slipped out of the boxers, fast. Gia kept shaving.

“Is it really that good of an idea to do that?” Jen asked, as she came to stand behind Richard; Jen was starkers, and her hands quickly moved Richard’s boxers down.

“Ready?!” came the loud voice of Kurt from below.

“Almost!” Richard replied.

“Packed?” Jen asked.

“Not…” Hermione started.

Plunk!

“She’s taking a dump,” Ron said.

“It’s not meant as a show!” Hermione snapped.

“You are,” Ron said.

Gia rinsed the razor in the sink, brought it against her labia, held the lace as she drew the razor again.

Plunk!

Hermione felt the relief of her muscles, began to pee for a moment, before she grabbed the paper and wiped.

“You could’ve saved it,” Harry said to Hermione.

“I had to…GO!” Hermione quipped as she stood.

Hermione waited until Gia finished shaving before she could wash her hands. Richard went, grabbed his backpack, while Ron and Harry grabbed theirs. They went down the stairs, out the door, to the waiting gray sedan. After they put their backpacks into the trunk, they got in; Richard and Jen squeezed to share the front; while Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Gia got into the back.

Pzzt!

Harry opened a soda, handed it to Hermione.

“These things are so full of sugar,” Hermione said.

“Drink it up, at least four more to go,” Harry said, “And two water bottles.”

Ron and Gia took one, drank; Richard and Jen drank.

“Can you say rest stops here we come?” Hermione asked.

“I’ll hold it in,” Ron said.

Ron’s fingers reached, Hermione felt the right fingers push in between the petals, pushed right against her urethrae. Hermione took the hint, drank, and felt the bubbles going down her throat. Harry kept pushing colas and bottles of water that they had no ability to talk until Kurt pulled off to the trailhead along the highway.

“Is this it?” Kurt asked.

Richard double checked his map.

“Yep,” Richard replied.

They got out of the car, into the light drizzle.

“Will you be alright?” Kurt asked.

“We’re not complete idiots,” Richard said, “We’ve packed.”

“You’ve got my wand in your backpack, right?” Hermione asked Ron.

“Did you put it in?” Ron asked.

“I’m serious!” Hermione said.

“I’ve got mine,” Ron said.

Kurt pulled away.

“You _left_ it?” Hermione asked Ron.

“Where did you last have it?” Ron asked.

“In my shirt,” Hermione said.

“So, back—” Ron started.

“Lets get moving, here,” Harry handed Ron and Hermione a final soda, before sipping on his.

“We have to go back,” Hermione said.

“She left her wand back at Hogwarts,” Ron said.

“I’d understand,” Harry said, “But Jen, how’d I explain you taking off?”

“You can borrow mine if you need to,” Ron said to Hermione.

“I’m not talking about the wand between your legs!” Hermione snapped.

“You can play with that too,” Ron said.

“Come,” Richard said, waving them toward the trail.

They climbed up the steps over the fence.

“You had me drink and drink—” Hermione protested, she felt the urge to release.

“Then take that piss,” Harry said, “That’s kinda the point.”

Hermione glared, she saw Harry’s dick begin to dribble, piss as he walked. She glanced at Gia’s crotch, and she was dribbling too.

“Harry,” Gia said.

Harry moved back to walk next to Ron, gave a slight push, and Hermione walked forward to be with Gia.

“They just don’t understand,” Hermione said.

“They _do_ understand,” Gia said, “You and them just see it differently. We pushed them, and now they’re pushing us, but it’s the same goal, to not take ourselves too seriously, to enjoy our time together, that’s it.”

“That was yesterday, not today,” Hermione said.

“It applies today,” Gia said, “I admit, it took me more time than Harry—today’s the first time, successful, it’s kinky.”

“Won’t argue with _that_!” Hermione said.

“If you must squat, they won’t mind,” Gia said.

“I’m sure about that,” Hermione said. Hermione glanced back at Harry, he was pissing from the hard erection, the stream jostled its aim back and forth with Harry’s gait.

“Almost there?” Jen said, “Can’t wait for those baked beans.”

“FUCK!” Richard said, “I forgot them.”

“You’re kidding,” Jen said.

“Can we just go without them?” Richard asked.

“Can we get some?” Jen asked.

They stopped.

“What’s happening?” Harry asked.

“Somebody left something behind,” Gia asked.

“Yes, lets go back—for my wand,” Hermione said to Ron.

“It’s _your_ wand,” Ron replied.

“Hmph!” Hermione retorted. It might have been unreasonable, but she felt that Ron had a duty to look out for her.

“Okay,” Richard said, coming over, “There’s a pub in Bewl Green, about a mile away, and we’re almost to where I was thinking we’d camp, so setup camp. Jen and I will go in to get—”

“We’ll come along,” Gia said, “Right Harry?”

“Sure,” Harry said.

A quick thought came to Hermione, that of a proper loo, as her bladder was definitely full.

“Here we go,” Richard said as they came to the open strip of grass next to the small pond, reeds separating them from the water, trees to the other side.

Richard set his backpack down, took out a glow stick, and attached it to the frame. Harry and Ron put their backpacks down. Richard double checked his map, and they followed the lake toward the small village to the other end. They jumped over a couple of brooks, and came to the several buildings that constituted Bewl Green. Two houses and a pub, along a road that went over the earthen dam holding in the lake. They went across the road, entered the Skunked Fish .

“New blood,” said an old man, silver hair, one of two old man, sitting at a table.

“Good blood,” said a young man, about twenty, at a different table. His eyes surveyed them.

“Excuse me,” Richard said, “We were involved when she had a craving for some baked beans, you wouldn’t happen to have any?”

“I think we do,” said the old man, “Let me check.”

The man got up, walked deliberately behind the bar, and went into the back.

“What’s your story?” asked the young man.

“Keegan, she’s not for you,” said the other man from the first table.

“This,” Ron said, pushing Hermione a bit closer to Keegan, “Is _my_ girlfriend.” Ron briefly tossed, his erection jutted out from the red pubic hair.

“I’m not going to steal her,” Keegan said, “Tempting, but no.”

Hermione leaned back against Ron.

“She’s wonderful,” Ron said, “Smart, really smart, and friendly. Sure, some parts—well, others are bigger, like these—” Ron held her breasts “—but the whole matters, the whole person. She’s a work of art, magnificent.”

“Whoa!” Hermione muttered as Ron lifted her by her buttocks. Hermione’s feet held to the edge of the table, her legs spread apart. “What are you—?”

“You’re beautiful,” Ron said, “He ought to be jealous.”

“I am,” Keegan said, his eyes focused at Hermione’s carpet.

Hermione pushed against Ron’s chest, his erection was right underneath her butt crack.

“I don’t need the forest cleared for me,” Ron said, his fingers reached around her, spread the two halves of her labia apart, letting her vulva show.

“Stop!” Hermione said as she felt his fingers in her, the stimulation overcame her ability to hold back.

Keegan watched as the stream formed, Hermione’s crotch on display as she began to piss.

“You couldn’t have done that before?” Harry asked.

Hermione blushed as Gia, Richard, and Harry became more spectators that watched her piss.

“I was going to ask for the loo,” Hermione said.

“Accidents happen,” Keegan said.

Hermione felt every soda, every water bottle, she drank insist on going out, as she wetted the table. Harry didn’t hide his sprouting erection, nor did Richard. Jen came over, holding a large insulated take–out box, smile on her face.

“Ready,” Jen announced.

Jen waited until Hermione finished peeing.

“Nice,” Keegan said.

“She’s gorgeous,” Ron said.

Hermione squirmed, stood back up on her own feet. She spun around, glare.

“Lets go,” Harry said.

“Thank you for the beans,” Richard said to the people on the pub.

They left, turned into the darkening sky as the sun dipped below the horizon. Several clouds above sent down a light mist.

“You just had to do that!” Hermione snapped at Ron.

“You’re gorgeous, inside and out,” Ron said, “He appreciated that.”

“Of course he did!” Hermione said, “You just had to show me off to some stranger!”

“And he agreed, you’re beautiful,” Ron said.

“I’m not some doll!” Hermione snapped.

“Harry,” Gia said, “You didn’t by chance bring another sleeping bag?”

“No,” Harry said, “I’ve got one, Ron’s got the other.

“Best be making plans,” Gia said to Harry.

“What’s going on?” Hermione asked.

“Planning ahead,” Gia replied.

“I wonder why!” Hermione snapped at Ron.

Yip! Yip! Howl!

“What’s that?” Jen asked.

“Dunno,” Richard said, before breaking into a run.

Harry bolted. Ron, Hermione, Jen, and Gia joined in the fast pace, along the lake in the fading light.

Growl!

“Hey! Hey!” Richard shouted.

Ahead, their backpacks were on the ground, the glow stick illuminating Richard’s aluminum frame backpack. A backpack that was being ripped to shreds by the hounds around it; each snout moved into the sack and took a bite.

“Shoo! Shoo!” Harry stammered as a hound started to go after Harry’s backpack.

Whack!

Gia’s hand rebound, picked up another stone, and threw it at the dog.

Growl! Woof!

The dogs withdrew, into the trees.

“They’ll be back,” Jen said, “We need a fire.”

Richard crouched down to his backpack.

“Blimey!” Richard said, “They found the food, it’s gone.”

“What about yours?” Hermione asked Harry.

“Richard carried it all,” Harry said, “I’ve got the other stuff.”

“We’ve got no food?” Ron asked.

“I guess we’ll be going back to the Skunked Fish in the morning,” Harry said.

“Harry, I need the shovel,” Richard said.

Harry knelt, opened his backpack, removed the camp shovel, and handed it over. Richard extended it, began to dig into the ground.

“Just stack wood,” Ron said.

“This way doesn’t leave a mark,” Gia replied.

“At least they didn’t like the fire supplies,” Richard said, pulling out a firestarter. He put it onto the ground, took out kindling, and a couple of small logs. “I’ll need the hatchet.” Richard struck a match, brought it to the firestarter, and it began to burn.

“I’ll share for those that need it,” Jen said, holding up her takeaway container.

Ron and Gia went over to Jen. Hermione stayed with Harry and Richard. Harry reached into his backpack, handed Richard an axe.

“I said hatchet!” Richard said, “Jen’ll wonder.”

“It’ll work, right?” Harry asked.

“Of course,” Richard said, “More effective than a hatchet. Watch the fire Harry, I’ll get some more wood.”

Hermione started to follow Richard. Harry rushed up, handed her his wand.

“Richard knows, but Jen does not,” Harry said, “Keep it that way.”

Harry returned to the fire, while Hermione carried Harry’s wand as she followed Richard into the trees.

“What’d he mean—?” Hermione started.

“Magic,” Richard said, “Jen doesn’t know, but she’s sharp. Right now, she’s ignoring the peculiarities—suppose you could magic the way out of this situation?”

“That’s not Harry’s way,” Hermione said, “At least, not deliberately. Besides, he wants to keep a low profile. Otherwise, with a lot of magic, he might as well broadcast where he is, and we’d certainly get help. Whether it’s the kind of help we’re after—different question.”

Richard stopped at a fallen tree, the trunk was far smaller than usual, a young one blown over in the wind. Their eyes had already adjusted, they could make it out.

“Is Harry really that well known?” Richard said, “That reporter at the marathon seemed…well acquainted, like he was a celebrity in your realm.”

Richard took a swing, hewed the axes into the trunk.

“Harry is well known, very well known,” Hermione said, “As in, everybody has heard of his name, his history.”

“Yet he hangs out around with us,” Richard said.

“As Ron put it, it’s because you haven’t heard of him before, that’s the appeal,” Hermione said, “With you, with Gia, Harry had to earn it so he cherishes it because it’s sincere. Here, he’s not defined by the scar on his forehead.”

“That well known?” Richard asked.

“That well known,” Hermione repeated.

Hermione felt the holly wand in her fingers. A wand was just as personal, just as intimate, as a todger to a boy, yet Harry had no issues entrusting either of them to her. She wanted to get back to the fire, as Richard kept swinging.

“Step aside,” Hermione said, the numbness of the cool air across her skin began to get to her.

Richard stepped back. Hermione leveled the wand, the axe went to work, fast. Inside a few minutes, the entire fallen tree had been turned into firewood, firewood that quickly stacked itself.

“I thought Harry didn’t want to use magic,” Richard said.

“That’s Harry’s opinion, not always mine,” Hermione said. Still, she had felt a bit of the power, Harry’s wand didn’t mess around, no pleading with it, as the firewood levitated, moved fast toward the campfire.

“I won’t tattle,” Richard said.

Richard and Hermione returned to the campfire, where four sleeping bags had been set on the ground. Two double wides, the ones that had been purchased back in Zurich, and the two smaller ones.

“That’s a bit fast,” Harry said, seeing the stack of wood.

“Richard’s fast, really fast,” Hermione said.

“Yeah, right,” Harry said as he took his wand back. Harry stashed it in his backpack.

“Did you feel like chopping it?” Richard asked.

“Guess I could’ve,” Harry said.

Richard put some of the firewood onto the fire.

“We’ve got a little bit left,” Jen said.

“Ron’s not hungry?” Hermione asked.

“He’s being generous,” Harry said, “No, not me.”

“I’ll have them,” Richard said, grabbing the dish.

“We should’ve asked them for a drink,” Jen said, “They were a pub after all.”

“I’ve got something,” Harry said, opening his backpack. He pulled out a small case of beer, handed her a bottle.

“Something better,” Ron said, going to his backpack, pulled out a couple bottles of Firewhiskey, “Seamus won’t notice.”

They sat around the campfire. Hermione glanced at the legs of Harry, up, the hard dick jutted forward. Ron’s dick was out of view as he sat to the other side of Harry. Hermione’s eyes landed on Richard’s spread legs, the soft circumcised dick hung there, the balls were on the grass. Jen was to the other side of Richard, while Gia sat to Hermione’s left.

“So, you three go to the same school,” Jen said.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“How far away is it?” Jen asked.

“Dunno,” Ron said, “Somewhere up in—”

“The north,” Harry said.

“Not too far north, because Harry’s here every afternoon,” Jen said.

“I take a shortcut,” Harry replied.

“What do you study?” Jen asked.

“The usual,” Harry said.

Hermione thought fast, through all the lies they’ve used before, trying to be as honest as possible.

“Chemistry, math,” Hermione said, “Even a vocational class on taking better care of the creatures in your care.”

“Dragons,” Harry whispered to Hermione.

Ron sipped at the Firewhiskey.

“You seem strong friends,” Jen said.

“We are,” Ron said, “Since we started school, we’ve been together. Stepped on toes, hurt feelings, but we’re friends.”

“You should study those words,” Hermione snapped to Ron.

“Whoa, whoa,” Harry said, “Take it easy, both of you.”

“They fight?” Jen asked.

“Frequently,” Harry said, “It’s good, for if they’re not fighting, then I worry.”

“Hmph!” Hermione said.

Ron handed Harry the Firewhiskey, Harry sipped. Hermione glanced down at the long, hard erection of Harry’s to her right, simply hanging out, foreskin still over the tip.

“That’s _mine_ ,” Gia whispered to Hermione.

“What?” Hermione said, “Oh.”

“You can’t make up your mind over them, can you?” Jen asked.

“I’ve made up my mind,” Hermione said.

“Not blaming you,” Jen said, “Nice dilemma to have.”

“Yeah,” Hermione said.

“Since you’re all intent on staring, including you—” Harry glanced at Ron for a moment “—Hermione, trade.”

Harry got onto his knees, bent over. Hermione glanced at the bollocks hanging freely beneath Harry’s anus as he moved over. Hermione moved to where Harry had been.

“Gia was wondering how long Harry could wait,” Jen said.

“Bet nobody wagered midnight,” Ron said, “Hermione?”

Hermione glanced at the hard todger, the flickering flame cast shadows into his pubic hair.

“No,” Hermione said. She turned back to Harry.

Harry was licking along Gia’s folds, the fingers worked the clitoris.

“Was wondering—” Ron started, his hand reached for Hermione’s breast.

Slap!

“NO!” Hermione snapped at Ron.

“But—” Ron started to protest.

“Were you expecting to bang?” Hermione asked, fast.

“Kinda, yeah,” Ron said.

Gia got onto her hands and knees. Harry got onto his knees, knelt behind Gia, his cock level with her pussy.

“Do Harry,” Hermione blurted. She suddenly realized her rage had taken hold of her tongue, she wanted to take it back, but her rage kept her.

“What?” Harry stammered.

“You’re serious?” Ron asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said, “As he bangs Gia, you bang him.”

“This will be different,” Harry said.

“Okay,” Ron said, hesitantly.

Ron moved, knelt behind Harry, pushed Harry forward. Ron teased his hard shaft to Harry’s anus. Harry twitched, went backward fast, the entirity of Ron’s hardness did not wait, submerged itself within.

“Aw…aw…” Harry muttered.

Gia, however, moved herself backward, Harry’s hard shaft sunk into her.

“No condom?” Jen asked.

Richard whispered into Jen’s ear.

“Oh,” Jen said.

Hermione, though, went on her back, put herself between the legs, her head beneath the crotches.

“Somebody’s really interested,” Richard said.

Hermione watched the puffed marshmellows, hanging beneath Ron and Harry, jiggle, as Ron began to drill; Gia took the effort to flex her hips. Harry seemed confused, did not move too much, let Ron and Gia drive it; the hard shaft up his bum, and his own in Gia.

“How’s the view?” Jen asked Hermione.

Hermione reached up, teased Harry’s swaying testicles, felt into them.

“Ah…ah…” Harry muttered.

“Are you…?” Gia pulled forward. She rolled in time to lay on her back, in front of Harry.

Harry’s bottle green eyes fixated on her. Hermione felt his testicles drain as his hard dick began to spit out the off white. Hermione watched the thick creamy liquid launch out of Harry’s erection, and it kept pouring and pouring. Harry fell forward, which pulled his arse away from Ron’s hard cock, landed on his side next to Gia, smile on his face.

“Intense,” Harry said as his dick rapidly softened.

“Go on Ron,” Gia said, seeing his fingers nearing the hard flesh.

“Oh,” Harry said, he reached for his backpack, hand went in, and he pulled out the vibrator from the previous day, it was still humming as he handed it to Hermione, “Give it to him.”

Hermione rammed it up Ron’s butt.

“Hermione—” Ron started.

“Focus on me,” Gia said.

Ron tossed, his hand waxed, moved along his thick cock, the foreskin slipped. Again, Hermione held Ron’s testicles, tickled, teased, as he began to erupt. Ron’s semen leapt, joined in Harry’s puddles on Gia’s stomach, her chest.

“Hermione,” Ron said, as he glanced down at her, still beneath his legs.

“Richard, your turn,” Harry said.

“No, no,” Richard said, “We’re about to hit the sack.”

“Suit yourself,” Harry said.

Hermione, though, liked the thought, went over to the big sleeping bag, crawled into it. Ron came over.

“No you don’t,” Hermione said to Ron, still irritated.

“What?” Ron asked.

“You know exactly what,” Hermione said.

“I’m not a mind reader,” Ron stammered.

“You’re unbelievable!” Hermione said, “You shouldn’t need to read my mind to know that it’s unacceptable to show my pussy off to some stranger!”

“It was an accident!” Ron said, “I didn’t realize you had to pee!”

“I mentioned it!” Hermione said, “You’re not sleeping with me!”

“I…I…” Ron stuttered.

“Trade ya’ places,” Harry said.

“Alright,” Ron said.

Harry crawled over, slid into the sleeping bag with Hermione.

“I never said it was alright,” Hermione said.

“Is it?” Harry asked.

“Guess so,” Hermione replied.

“I want to sleep with someone,” Harry said, as he nestled up against her backside, “Ron as a last resort.”

Hermione snorted.

“Here,” Harry said, “Missed you.”

Harry reached around her, teased her clitoris, but she heard the snoring kick in as Harry fell to sleep. She loved Ron, of course, but at times, he needed to be spanked. She definitely felt the size difference, she was used to Ron being able to smoother her backside; Harry was thinner, shorter, but he’d do until the morning. His breath drove her to sleep.

* * *

Hermione woke Saturday morning to moaning, a brief shout, and wetness in the sleeping bag. She rolled over, Harry asleep, but his eyelids twitched as he muttered.

“Let Gia in,” Ron said, crouched near her.

Hermione climbed out, Gia climbed in behind Harry. Gia rubbed the ears and Harry calmed down.

“Have to admit, I feel so helpless,” Hermione said as she now watched Harry now sleeping in Gia’s arms, “I suppose it’s Voldemort.”

“Likely,” Ron said.

“Wish we could do more,” Hermione said.

“Sure, kill You–know–Who,” Ron said.

“That’s not very helpful,” Hermione said.

“It’d work,” Ron said, “Just a moment, be right back.”

Ron went over to the tree line, squatted.

“You’re stressed out?” Jen asked.

“Not really,” Hermione lied, before she went over to Jen; she glanced out to the lake where Richard was making a lap in the water before she sat on the grass. “Alright, I am. At times, Ron’s a real arsehole, but other times, he’s downright insightful.”

“Ron’s a charming fellow,” Jen said, “Not for me, but a charmer.”

“Oh, yeah, show off my kitty to everybody to witness me peeing!” Hermione said.

“He cares for you, even if he’s not perfect about it,” Jen said, “I mean, I witnessed last night?”

“Perverted,” Hermione said.

“He fucked his friend because _you_ asked him to,” Jen said, “I mean, I don’t think he’s your slave.”

“No, he’s not,” Hermione said.

“Nobody’s perfect,” Jen said, “I mean, even Harry—he’s wetting the bed right now, right?”

“Yeah,” Hermione said.

“He’s sixteen but still wets the bed, see the problem?” Jen said, “Yet, Gia seems to put up with it, puts up with the plastic beneath the sheets on her bed. Kristen’s noticed, but she’s got a soft spot, puts up with the daily sheet changes.”

“Harry used to sleep at school, like the rest of us,” Hermione said, “I witnessed him wetting the bed on the trip, of course, but now we’re back to school. If he were at school, I’m sure the sheets would be changed there, the secret kept, like we’re keeping it.”

“Why do you stick with Ron?” Jen said.

“He’s charming, funny, witty, dependable,” Hermione said, “I love him, but at times, very immature.”

“Show me a boy who’s really mature, and I’ll show you eyes that need correction,” Jen said.

“I know, I know,” Hermione said, “Experiencing it—that’s another matter.”

“Hey,” Ron said, coming back over, “I’m hungry. That pub was that way, right?” Ron pointed.

“I’ll come,” Hermione said.

Hermione walked with Ron as they followed the lake.

“Is this how Harry always does the hikes?” Ron asked.

“I think so,” Hermione said, “Obviously the food didn’t go as planned. Fortunately, we’ve got options, and, aren’t you going to apologize?”

“Are you still mad?” Ron said, “That was yesterday.”

“Don’t show me off as a sex doll!” Hermione said, “I know _you_ like me more, but it’s still degrading.”

“Sorry,” Ron said, “To me, you’re beautiful, and I thought we’d try Harry’s antics.”

“We’re not Harry and Gia,” Hermione said, “Please respect me.”

“I’m sorry,” Ron said, “I love you.”

“Please be a gentlemen, even though we’re naked, be a gentlemen and we’ll get along fine,” Hermione said.

Ron stopped, pulled her into an embrace, hugged her.

“I meant it,” Ron said, “I love you, and I’ll try not to hurt you.”

“Too late there,” Hermione said.

“Okay, I’ll try not to hurt you, again,” Ron said, “Mistakes will still be made, I can’t stop all of those.”

“I know, I know,” Hermione said.

They kept walking, made it to the Skunked Fish and entered. Hermione sat at a table while Ron went up the counter, ordered. He pulled his wallet out of his arse, found a bit of muggle money, and paid. Ron came to the table.

“Keep standing,” Hermione said.

Ron stood there as Hermione surveyed him. The red hair on top, the blue eyes, the freckled face, the broad chest with the nipples, the naval with a bit of a trail of fuzz down to the pubic hair. His intact penis with a bit of the slit showing where the foreskin didn’t quite cover the glans, the large balls behind the todger.

“Before you spend all of the time admiring me,” Ron said, “Need to…”

Ron put his right foot on the chair, spread his buttocks, and pulled out the leather bound journal, the inkjar. Ron sat on the chair.

“You’re still at that?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” Ron asked.

“Your pocket still works,” Hermione said, “Harry’s doesn’t, nor mine.”

“You’re clever Hermione, really, really, clever,” Ron said, “But not everything makes it into a book, as Fred and George find out all the time with their potions and tricks. Some little leaf makes the difference between a perpetual laughing taffy and a tongue burner — there’s a reason Fred and George routinely visit St. Mungo’s.”

“You’re not going to put all of last night in, are you?” Hermione asked.

“As best as I can remember, yes,” Ron said, “Though that Firewhiskey, think I drank too much.”

“A single drink is too much when it comes to Firewhiskey,” Hermione said.

“You’re not supposed to be doing homework,” Harry said as he entered. Harry had one backpack on his back, carried the other. Richard entered with his aluminum framed backpack.

“Hermione’s a demanding girlfriend,” Ron said as he turned around, “An essay’s all that’s required.”

Harry went up, along with Richard, ordered. Ron quickly stashed the journal, put it back up his bum before Harry, Gia, and Jen came over. Richard followed; put his backpack down against the table.

“I think we just doubled their usual crowd,” Richard said as he turned the chair around, straddled it as he sat.

“I can still feel last night,” Harry said as he massaged his balls before he sat next to Ron, both backpacks went to the floor, “Aw..aw..and you too.”

“Why the backpacks?” Hermione asked.

“We weren’t exactly planning to camp there tonight,” Harry said, “You know, _hiking_ involves _hiking_. Don’t worry, I grabbed yours too, leave anything behind?”

“No,” Hermione said.

“We’d go back if needed,” Harry said, “No, plan is to keep hiking.”

“After breakfast,” Gia said.

“Given the food, we’ll stop near another pub,” Richard said, “Eat up, it’ll have to last to dinner.”

Quickly, the breakfast platters were delivered. English bacon, ham, eggs, toast, tea, bangers, and plenty of beans. Gia stood up on the chair, squatted until her knees rested on the edge of the table, the legs spread apart. Gia grabbed a sausage, touched it to her clitoris, worked it into her vulva. Harry leaned over the table, hands on the wood, munched down on the sausage; his erection grew fast and hard.

“Okay,” Hermione muttered.

“He’s _eating_ ,” Ron whispered.

“You’re talking like that’s a problem,” Richard said.

“Shh!” Ron snapped.

Gia moved, laid on the table, brought an egg onto her nipple, it broke. Yellow yoke dripped along the skin of her breast. Harry licked at it, ate the egg.

“Would this work?” Hermione asked, moving to laddle some of the baked beans onto Gia’s stomach.

Harry’s erection swayed as he moved, worked at the baked beans. Gia rolled up the english bacon, put it into her vulva. Harry moved, ate it. Gia drizzled a bit of the melted butter over her clitoris; Harry’s tongue worked at it, licked. Gia sighed, relaxed.

“And so, she likes to have an orgasm for breakfast,” Ron said to Hermione, “Care for one?”

“No,” Hermione stated.

“Can I eat out of your pussy?” Ron said, “Please?”

“No,” Hermione repeated.

“I’m eating normally,” Richard said, fork into his eggs.

Hermione watched as Ron succumbed to the smells of the plate, the fork went to his mouth fast.

* * *

Ron put on his backpack as they left the Skunked Fish . Richard pointed, and the group followed the road, over the earthen dam, before turning right onto a trail. They climbed the steps, up and over the fence, before they stood in the field, some sheep were off in the distance.

“Mind?” Ron asked, pointed.

Hermione got the hint, went up to walk with Harry, while Ron stayed back with Gia.

“So, you’re Harry’s plate?” Ron asked.

“It’s fun,” Gia said, “He needs to eat, right?”

“Yeah, we’ve been trying at school,” Ron said, “I’m glad you’ve found a way.”

“If my body encourages Harry to eat, so be it,” Gia said.

“Thank you,” Ron said, bringing her to a halt.

Hermione and Harry, ahead, stopped, watched from a distance, as Ron leaned in. Ron kissed Gia, put his tongue into her mouth, his right hand to her breast, while the other reached and teasted her clitoris. Ron’s thumb stayed on the clitoris while the fingers reached in, until he felt the tension, the contraction, and Gia sighed.

“You’re welcome,” Gia said.

Ron and Gia resumed walking. Hermione waited, while Gia ran ahead to Harry.

“You just had to—” Hermione said.

“Just saying _thank you_ for keeping Harry alive,” Ron said.

“Some thank you,” Hermione said.

“Giving her an orgasm was a _thank you_ ,” Ron said, “She’s found a way to get Harry to eat. After all our attempts at pestering, she’s given herself to him, and it’s working.”

“I saw that,” Hermione said.

“Here, let me try this, as we walk,” Ron said, reaching for Hermione’s carpet, “Or, do we still have that vibrator?”

“Not sure,” Hermione said.

“Okay, let’s try it here,” Ron said, bringing Hermione to a stop. Ron leaned in, brought her close, while his left fingers worked into her vulva. Ron wiggled, licked her on the neck, kissed, while the right massaged her buttock.

“Is this Ron bribing the world with orgasms?” Harry asked, loudly.

Ron, though, kept it up until Hermione relaxed.

“Thank you for being my friend,” Ron said.

“You just had to,” Hermione said.

“Does it help?” Ron asked as he let go.

“A bit,” Hermione said.

“Come, lets keep up,” Ron said.

Ron and Hermione walked.

“You don’t need to wank me,” Harry said to Ron.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Ron said.

“Good,” Harry retorted.

Richard and Jen had already stopped just after the next fence. Gia climbed first, followed by Harry, Hermione, and Ron. They kept walking.

* * *

Night was falling as they carried takeaway from the Careless Duck pub, a single building that was a bit isolated. They went into the trees; Richard used glow sticks, and they made their way to a small clearing, it already had a firepit, with a couple of benches. Quickly, the sleeping bags came out, a fire made, and they sat on the sleeping bags.

“You behaved yourself today,” Hermione said to Ron, “Thank you.” She was serious, Ron was pretty well behaved, more than usual.

“Your turn, Richard,” Harry said, sipping on a beer.

“Yeah,” Ron said, taking a swig of the Firewhiskey.

Gia put a spare rib onto her, Harry bent over, ate.

“We’re going to wait until we get home tomorrow,” Richard said.

“Why wait?” Ron asked.

“It’s not quite his thing,” Jen said.

“Here, here,” Harry said, he handed Richard a beer, “Just need a bit of courage, that’s all.”

“Guess I could try,” Richard said.

Richard reached into his backpack, pulled out a condom.

“Kiss her, first,” Harry said.

Richard leaned over, kissed Jen. Richard blushed.

“No, no, can’t…” Richard stammered.

“Look, if you really don’t want to, we’re not forcing it,” Harry said, “Just bit over the top last night, could keep it small, wanna watch?”

“Change of plan,” Gia said to Harry, “Do Hermione.”

“Okay,” Ron said.

“You too,” Gia said to Ron.

Hermione wasn’t sure, though it seemed like Gia was certain of this.

“Not fucking him,” Ron said, pointing to Harry.

“I wasn’t suggesting that,” Gia said, “Treat her nicely.”

“It’s alright,” Harry said, “I think I can manage you in the picture too.”

Harry knelt next to Hermione, lowered her onto the sleeping bag.

“How’d you want to do this?” Ron asked.

“Be different,” Gia said.

Hermione wasn’t certain what she wanted.

“Do you want to suck on it?” Richard asked.

“No,” Hermione said.

“Hold on.” Richard dug through his backpack, pulled out two stopwatches. “Fuck her, get to her, but lets see which one can hold out the longest. Interested?”

“This could work,” Hermione said, “Okay.”

“One minute each, do we need to arm wrestle to see who goes first?” Richard asked.

“Ron, you start,” Harry said.

Richard handed the stopwatches to Jen and Gia.

“I’ll do this on one condition,” Jen said.

“What is it?” Richard asked.

“Later,” Jen said, “Agreed?”

“Alright,” Richard said.

Hermione felt Ron’s hands as he lifted, heard the chirp of the stopwatch as Ron pushed his hard dick into her, felt him take it easy as he pushed, the balls hit her crotch, while the fingers teased her nipples.

“Time,” Jen said.

Ron withdrew, Harry came in. She felt the difference, the thinner dick, but longer, enter her. Harry drilled for a moment; the balls were a longer and thinner than Ron’s.

“Time,” Gia said.

Harry withdrew and Ron pushed in. Hermione felt the twitch, the bearing down, as her orgasms started to heat up with Ron’s thrusting.

“Time,” Jen said.

Again, Ron withdrew, and Hermione felt the smaller cock restart her orgasms. Gia and Jen kept calling time; Ron and Harry kept switching off. As the orgasms both waned and grew in intensity, her focus narrowed, as she felt the dicks of her two best friends, both without hesitation, stimulating her; Ron simply knew where, Harry’s pushed further inward and was simply lucky. She felt the balls hitting against her as each one kept at it.

“How much longer?” Richard asked.

“Your game,” Jen said.

“Besides, she’s been really enjoying it,” Gia said.

“You are?” Ron asked.

“You didn’t realize you’ve been giving her that orgasm for a while?” Gia asked.

“He’s clueless,” Hermione spouted, her face grinning.

“Keep going,” Harry said.

“Yeah,” Ron replied.

Hermione felt Harry take over, the hardness within.

“I’d kinda like to go to the next round,” Jen said, “Hurry up.”

“They deserve the reward,” Gia said.

“Alright,” Hermione said, “Here.”

Harry pulled out. Both Harry and Ron went to either side of her, still on their knees, but turned so their hard erections were aimed at her, balls hanging over her. Hermione glanced at them, compared the exposed glans, Ron’s was a bit bigger. Still, she curled her hands around the two perfect cocks, stroked them together, in unison. Ron’s urethrae pumped first, let loose, and he ejaculated, most of it spread onto her right breast. Harry’s came next, a bit more force, but still, mostly on her chest.

“Okay,” Richard asked Jen, “What’s this second round?”

“We can’t let them have all the fun, can we?” Jen asked, tearing open the condom wrapper. She knelt in front of Richard, reached and rolled the condom out onto his circumcised hard erection.

“I…” Richard stuttered as he blushed.

Jen pushed back on Richard until he laid there. Jen went to her knees, situated her crotch above his erection, and sat down. Richard’s hard cock slipped inward. Jen rode Richard like a horse, flexed up and down, until she stopped, pulled off. She removed the condom, touched the fulcrum, and they watched his semen fly upward as he ejaculated. It puddled into his pubic hair.

“Alright, finish me,” Jen said.

“I…” Richard stuttered.

“It’s easy,” Ron said, “Just use your hand.”

“I know that,” Richard said.

“Come on, finish the job,” Jen said to Richard.

Richard reached, his hand worked her.

“What about you?” Ron asked Gia.

“At times, watching a friend getting laid is more rewarding,” Gia said, “You served Hermione well, I think she’ll let you sleep with her.”

Hermione nodded as Ron smiled at her. Ron took the hint, got into the sleeping bag with Hermione. Once again, Hermione felt the familiar broad chest behind her, one that fit her back nicely.

* * *

It was late Sunday evening when Kurt brought the station wagon to a halt in Noigate, but not at 26 Oak.

“You’ll be alright?” Jen asked.

“Yeah, my parents are here,” Hermione said, “Nothing to worry.”

Ron grabbed his backpack as he and Hermione got out.

“See you tomorrow Harry,” Ron said.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

Ron and Hermione approached the house, giggling and splashing could be heard from the back. They walked around.

“Oh my—” Hermione started to exclaim.

Linda Granger was gripping the edge of the tub, hands near the uncapped tube of lube, but her butt was up in the air as Charles Granger had his hard erection, beneath pubic hair mixed with brown and silver, pushed into her. Both swimsuits had been cast aside.

“Hermione!” Linda exclaimed.

Charles rapidly withdrew from Linda, the cock dripping with semen, and they both sank into the hot water, the bubbles covered them.

“Hi Mum, Dad,” Hermione said.

“You’re supposed to be at school!” Charles said.

“We got a pass,” Hermione said, “Mind if I use my bed, here, for the night, head back tomorrow?”

“Sure, you don’t need permission,” Linda said, “You already have it.”

“What have you been doing with my daughter?” Charles asked, his finger pointed at Ron. Charles eyes fixated on the naked teenage boy standing there.

“Only the best,” Ron said, smile on his face, “Nothing less for her.”

“I don’t trust him,” Charles said.

“Mind?” Hermione asked, stepping into the hot tub.

Ron put the backpack down, stepped in himself.

“You went around like that?” Linda asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said, “Harry and Ron are alright, we did it for the summer too.”

“That’s when they—?” Charles asked Linda.

“Yes,” Linda said, “They went across Europe like this.”

Ron brought Hermione to sit on his lap.

“How’d I know you’re not—” Charles started.

“We are,” Ron said, feeling Hermione’s carpet.

“Ron!” Hermione snapped.

“But I love you,” Ron said, “It’s not like you’re hiding that from your folks?”

“Of course not,” Hermione said.

“Like mother, like daughter,” Ron said, “Mr. Granger had the right idea.”

“Pardon?” Charles asked.

“Mrs. Granger,” Ron said, “Can I have—?” he pointed to the tube of lube.

Ron lifted Hermione, she held onto the edge of the hot tub. Ron’s left hand poured the lube onto his hard cock, tossed the tube aside. He pushed inward, let the shaft thread into Hermione, and he drilled for a couple of minutes, held as he felt the pressure release, and pulled out a dick which was dripping white from the slit.

“See, I told you,” Linda said to Charles.

Ron lowered Hermione to the water, sat.

“Ron!” Hermione said to him.

“I told you, I’m not ashamed,” Ron said, “No reason for you to be either, that’s Harry’s lesson, and now your parents know.”

“So, what were you up to?” Linda asked, deflecting Charles’ ire.

“A little hike,” Ron said, “A classmate of Harry’s girlfriend set it up, seemed a bit more relaxing than hanging out at Hogwarts.”

“Your studies?” Charles asked.

“Hermione’s well ahead,” Ron said, “I’ll be making the rest of it up tomorrow.”

“It pays to get be ahead,” Hermione said.

“I wish you would’ve called to at least warn us,” Linda said.

“Harry suggested it on the drive back,” Ron said, “She couldn’t.”

“It is nice to see you both,” Linda said, “If you excuse me, I must get ready for bed.’

Linda got up, entered the house. Ron got up, grabbed the backpack and followed, leaving Hermione in the hot tub.

“You needed something else?” Linda asked.

“Yeah,” Ron said, “Mind if I check your library again?”

“I did get you that book you had requested,” Linda said, “Was planning to wait until you came for the winter break.”

“I’m here now,” Ron said.

Ron entered the library, Linda followed. Linda went through the shelves, pulled it out, handed it over. Ron opened Eating Disorders and Psychiatry , glanced.

“Thanks,” Ron said.

Ron grabbed a book cover, he recognized it as one of the ones he had stashed before, and the cover added itself. Ron waved his hand, the cover altered the title to Dietary Habits of Effective Quidditch Players .

“You could let Hermione help you,” Linda said.

“She’s too busy looking for ways to defeat You–Know–Who,” Ron said, “This is _my_ project. Thank you.”

Ron grabbed the book, his backpack, went out, up the stairs, down the corridor, and entered the bedroom on the end, the one filled with miniature horses. Ron laid on the bed, opened the book, and began to read. Hermione came in a half hour later.

“What are you doing?” Hermione asked.

“Like you said, had to catch up,” Ron said as he closed the book.

“Of course,” Hermione said as she read the cover.

“Yeah,” Ron said, “It was a good idea, coming here.”

“As much as the House Elfs try,” Hermione said as she sat, “There’s nothing quite like your own bed.”

“I know,” Ron grumbled.

“I don’t mind sharing,” Hermione said.

“Thanks for trying,” Ron said, “Back to school tomorrow, think we could talk Dumbledore into letting us do this more often? Hogwarts is nice and all, but I can see why Harry likes his commute.”

“We saw a lot of that,” Hermione said.

Hermione pointed her finger, the lights went out, and she pulled the covers over them. Ron turned to his side as Hermione began to snuggle into his chest, sought his hands out, to pull them onto her, to hold her, as she went to sleep.


	26. Innocence Lost

Hermione landed on top of Ron as they returned to Hogwarts, ended up on Ron’s four poster bed. Both starkers, his todger between their stomachs. Ron dropped the backpack to the floor, wrapped his legs around her, his arms held her tight as her breast pushed against his chest, and kissed. He felt her buttocks.

“We’ve got school,” Hermione said.

“Can wait,” Ron replied, tongue went into her mouth as he kissed.

Both felt his todger slithering, moving to stiffen between them. Hermione pulled her head back, Ron’s tongue slid out as their mouths separated.

“Shower!” Hermione said.

“Shower it is,” Ron said. He wasn’t in too much disagreement, if she wanted to do it in the shower, he was happy to oblige.

Hermione got off, Ron left the bed, followed her into the shower. Hermione turned on the water. Ron held her back against the wall, leaned in, as he massaged her breasts. Again, Ron kissed.

“I meant take a shower,” Hermione said.

“Sure, your fantasy,” Ron said.

Ron brought the soap over, began to lather her up. His hands worked through her hair, he washed her face, rinsed, and kissed. Ron’s tongue revisited her mouth, he could taste the lingering mint of her toothpaste as his hands moved down. He worked her breasts, lathered, rinsed, before going downward.

“Trying,” Hermione said.

“Huh—hmph,” Ron mumbled, his tongue moved back in, touched hers.

Ron coated his hard cock in liquid soap, pushed it between the folds of skin in the carpet of pubic hair, plied it into her. Ron’s hips flexed, drilled, as his hands worked beneath her armpits.

Click!

“Oh, you’re not Harry,” Colin Creevy said, camera in his hands, aimed at Ron and Hermione.

Ron felt the tension build up in Hermione. Ron decided to ignore Colin, not worry about it, continued. His hands worked her back shoulder blades, his hips kept moving, and his cock kept sliding inside her.

“Keep photographing,” Harry said, coming up behind Colin. Harry was naked.

“Oh,” Colin said.

Click!

“Help them remember banging in the shower,” Harry said.

Colin took a few more pictures as Ron pulled out a cock dribbling with semen.

Click!

“You had to!” Hermione snapped at Harry.

“Did you not hire Colin?” Harry asked.

“Of course not,” Ron said, coming out, “Colin thought it was you in the shower.”

“It won’t happen again, Colin!” Harry said, “You’ll only catch Ron and Hermione in _this_ shower because you’ve chased me away from using it!”

“Sorry,” Colin said.

“Is Witch Weekly paying your scholarship?” Harry asked.

“No,” Colin said.

“How many other Gryffindors have you caught on your camera?” Harry said, “It’s _not_ cool to be taking pictures of us all in the shower! Printing them all?”

“Some,” Colin admitted.

“Stop it!” Harry said, “I suppose you’ve got pictures of Seamus? Dean? Neville?”

“Maybe,” Colin said.

“Get that camera out of here,” Harry said, “I do not want to see it again, understand?”

“Yes,” Colin said.

“Bye!” Harry said.

Colin left the dormitory.

“Thank you,” Ron said to Harry, “That was getting a bit annoying.”

“I’d expect he’s developing the film now,” Harry said, “Maybe you’ll make Witch Weekly , again.”

“Great!” Ron stammered as he finished up his shower.

“That’s not funny,” Hermione said as she came out of the shower.

“No, it’s very likely, the truth,” Harry said as he grabbed his shirt, slacks, began to dress.

“First Rita Skeeter, now Colin Creevy,” Hermione said.

“Welcome to my life,” Harry said, “If I’m not on the front page, then I’m the centerfold to a half million witches.”

“Sorry,” Hermione said.

“Why fret?” Harry said, “You’ll make them jealous, you’re with a smoking hot wizard there.”

“Thank you for that assessment!” Ron quipped as he now stood there.

“You are,” Harry said, “Pose for the camera, just like that, you’d have a million witches masturbating over _you_. Next centerfold, Ron Weasley, and people will know who you are.” He glanced at Hermione. “I’ll walk you over.”

“Don’t have to,” Hermione said as she cinched up the towel.

“Go ahead,” Ron said.

Harry grabbed his bookbag, walked Hermione out of the dormitory.

“After some of the recent pictures, those were benign,” Harry said.

“I was—with Ron!” Hermione said.

“A little refresher to start the day,” Harry said as they made it up to the sixth year girls’ dormitory.

“Boys!” Hermione snapped.

“Thank you for noticing,” Harry said, a grin on his face.

Hermione relaxed, found her clothes, and dressed. Quickly, they went down to the common room where Ron was already waiting, with her bookbag. They left the common room, started to go past the stone wizard halfway along the seventh floor corridor.

“Hail the Faggot Lord Potter!” the statue exclaimed, it held out its arm in a hand salute.

“Okay…” Harry said, slowly, “In case we were wondering what this week had in store.”

They passed another statue just before the stairs, the stone girl raised her hand.

“Hail the Faggot Lord Potter!” the stone girl said as they went down the steps.

Statue by statue, this was repeated as Harry walked by, down the steps, to the first floor.

“Excuse us, Professor,” Ron said, as he entered Professor McGonagall’s office, “We missed breakfast, do you have our schedules?”

“Try to be on time Mr. Weasley,” Professor McGonagall said, handing them over.

“It was a good morning,” Ron said, as he took the schedule.

They left the office.

“Charms,” Hermione said.

Statue by statue, the salute, the praise was repeated until they came to the third floor, and entered the classroom two steps ahead of Professor Flitwick. Ron held the door open for him.

“Where were you?” Neville asked as Ron sat down, “Ginny tried finding you all weekend.”

“Does it matter?” Seamus said, “I’d be careful if I were you, teachers have been known to go missing around them.”

“Pardon?” Harry stammered.

“Two teachers for Defense against the Dark Arts, and two last spring!” Seamus said, “Don’t think we haven’t been watching you …“ Seamus paused before he spat “Lord Potter!”

“He’s working you up,” Ron said.

Harry sat at the table, Hermione to the other side.

“I figured that,” Harry said.

“Technically true,” Hermione said, “Professor Quirrel didn’t make it.”

“I know,” Harry said, tough to forget the demise of that Professor at his own hands.

* * *

Harry walked past the Defense of the Dark Arts classroom just after lunch.

“Where are you going?” Ron asked.

“My schedule’s different from yours,” Harry said, “See you at practice.”

“If he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t,” Hermione said to Ron.

Harry ran up the stairs, along the corridor, up to the dormitory. Harry dropped his slacks as he entered, went to the toilet and gave his butt a good wiping, before he pulled his shirt off. Harry kicked them beneath his bed, reached for the Quidditch robes when he remembered who this lesson was for. Instead, Harry stayed naked, mounted his Firebolt, opened the window, and flew out into the calm air. Heat of the afternoon sun warmed his testicles, his scrotum loosened by the time he reached the Quidditch Pitch. Ash and Oliver Wood were there.

“Potter, Potter,” Oliver Wood said, his eyes a bit of a glare at Harry.

“Ash is most confident when I fly naked,” Harry said, “Therefore, I fly naked.”

“Potter, are you sure about this?” Oliver Wood said, “There are other ways.”

“A Gryffindor needs my help,” Harry said, “My body helps, so be it.”

Ash nodded.

“Get on in front of me,” Harry said to Ash.

Ash’s eyes lit up, he quickly stripped naked.

“Blimey!” Oliver Wood exclaimed.

Ash, though, swung his leg over the Firebolt, leaned back into Harry’s chest. Harry shrugged.

“Potter!” Oliver said.

“Ash is in charge,” Harry said, “If he’s more comfortable like this, I’m not arguing.” Harry moved back on the broom, let his butt ride the bristles. “Ash, I’m just a passenger, you’re flying.”

Ash reached back, the fingers found Harry’s soft todger, immediately plied it stiff, and Ash moved back until the buttocks rested against the pubic hair. Harry’s hard cock was between the handle of the Firebolt, and Ash’s crotch, riding in the crack.

“Just hover,” Harry said, as he reached around, held Ash’s stomach, “Just hover.”

Harry lifted his legs, craned his neck a bit around Ash’s, watched Ash’s face as Ash supported them both on his feet. Ash shook.

“You’re doing fine,” Harry said to Ash, “You can be nice to Oliver there, he’s a Gryffindor too.”

Ash shook his head.

“He was the Quidditch captain when I joined the team, I was your age,” Harry said, “So, I know you can fly. Lift your legs.”

Ash lifted, they began to fall. Harry reached for the handle, corrected it, and brought them back to where Ash could stand.

“This isn’t a beginner’s broom,” Harry said, “Let’s do it.”

Ash moved Harry’s hands closer, against the crotch; Ash put his soft penis to rest on Harry’s hands, as Harry’s hands were holding the handle. Harry watched the dick stiffen, felt it firm up, and Ash smiled, before he tried again. Ash lifted his legs, the started to stumble. Harry decided Ash needed the help, so he channeled a bit into broom.

“Okay, I’ll help, right now,” Harry said, “You fly.”

They stabilized.

“You’re the one that can fly Potter,” Oliver Wood said.

“Training wheels on a bicycle,” Harry replied.

Oliver seemed perplexed, but Ash smiled. Ash leaned forward, Harry assisted, and they started to fly forward.

“Ta,” Ash whispered to Harry.

“You deliberately gave me a stiffy and sat on it,” Harry said.

“Sorry,” Ash mumbled quietly.

“Fly,” Harry instructed, “The goal.”

“Too far,” Ash replied, softly.

They started to drift forward, upward, a bit faster, when Harry felt it in his hands. He recognized the tremor in Ash’s small hard erection, the spasms made it clear, the little bugger was having dry orgasms. Ash, though, did not seem to mind, instead, shook his butt a bit, let the hard dick move in Harry’s hands. Harry quickly realized that none of his magic was going into flying, it was Ash. Ash’s confidence seemed to be boosted by the dry orgasms, and Ash pushed down.

“Wee!” Ash exclaimed as he pulled up out of a dive.

Harry moved his right hand, felt into the thigh, Ash’s testicles on the back of the hand as Harry felt the pulse beneath the skin. Ash’s heart was racing as he started to turn left and right. Harry felt the spasms come to a halt, a moment later, they fell. Harry grabbed the handle, landed their bare feet onto the wet grass.

“I didn’t do it right,” Ash said.

“I figured it out,” Harry said, “Mind?”

“Sure,” Ash said.

Harry wondered if Ash were really aware, but Harry still reached around, felt Ash’s soft dick. Harry stretched, teased the foreskin, Ash stiffened. Harry teased the glans, tickled it and the tight testicles, felt the spasms start up.

“Fly,” Harry said.

Ash pushed the handle, they began to move, steadily.

“How does this work?” Ash asked.

“You tell me,” Harry said.

Harry let go of Ash’s dick, and a few second later, they began to plummet. Harry grabbed the handle, landed them safely.

“Dunno, it’s something you’re doing,” Ash said.

“Stay right here,” Harry said, sliding back, off the broom. He walked over to Oliver Wood, grabbed the Cleansweep 7, and came back.

“Whoa—who!” Ash started to rise up into the air.

Harry mounted the Cleansweep, rode it to Ash, and grabbed Ash around the waist.

“Hold onto my broom!” Harry said.

Ash did this.

“Your classmates will be jealous if they hear you’re learning to fly on a Firebolt,” Harry said, “Alright, lets try this again.”

Ash’s left hand reached over, grabbed Harry’s shoulder. Harry’s right reached over, felt Ash’s dick, stroked it until it began to spasm.

“Get to the ground,” Harry said.

Ash’s left hand hesitated for a moment, before it grabbed the handle. Ash flew it toward the ground, though fell the last four feet as Harry landed.

“Mind explaining Potter?” Oliver Wood asked.

“I figured it out,” Harry replied as he handed back the Cleansweep, “Flying’s over with for today, I can handle this from here.”

“You sure?” Oliver Wood said, “I’ve yet to hear an answer.”

“Trust me,” Harry said. Harry was sure Oliver Wood didn’t want to hear the details of the lesson plan he just came up with for Ash. “He’ll be ready for Thursday’s lesson.”

Harry pointed. Ash gathered his clothes, got on behind Harry. Harry took off, flew to Gryffindor Tower, entered the sixth years boys dormitory. Harry secured the window.

“I figured you out,” Harry said, “You can fly.”

“I can?” Ash asked.

“ _Yes_ ,” Harry said, “But, your magic seems to only do so if you’re having an orgasm. So, you’re going to learn to wank.”

“Is that—?” Ash started, motioning to his dick.

“Yes,” Harry said, “So, get on my broom.”

Ash mounted Harry’s Firebolt.

“I—you do it,” Ash said.

Harry stood next to the young boy, felt the small hard dick, massaged it, while teasing the scrotum. Ash began to hover, took a small tight lap, before crashing.

“It stopped,” Ash said.

“Now, touch yourself,” Harry said.

“I’m not supposed to,” Ash said.

“You gotta learn,” Harry said, “Go ahead.”

Harry demonstrated, touched his own hard cock, tickled along the lower ridge of his urethrae. Ash began to tease, the small dick began to stiffen, again.

“And you stimulate yourself,” Harry said, “Mind you, mine’s going to be wet.”

Harry’s fingers gripped his own cock. Ash watched as Harry stroked, before Harry paused. Off white semen poured out, dripped to the floor.

“That’s wet,” Ash said.

They heard the gong, the end of the afternoon lesson.

“It’s now time for Quidditch practice—we got it to twice a week,” Harry said, “Ash, I want you to practice wanking, see how long you can keep it going, with one hand, because, remember, the other one has to be on the broom handle.”

“It’s not going to be wet, right?” Ash asked.

“I don’t think so, not until puberty hits,” Harry said, “This is just your personal training wheels but for flying. With practice, I think we’ll get you flying without it. See you Thursday.”

Ash restored his clothes, left the dormitory. Harry grabbed his Quidditch Robes, the Firebolt, and left the dormitory.

* * *

Ron and Hermione handed in their essays at the end of Transfiguration.

“Wish I knew what Harry was up to,” Ron said to Hermione.

“Mr. Potter is doing a special assignment for Mr. Wood,” Professor McGonagall said.

“He never said,” Ron said.

“Mr. Potter has taken an interest in a younger Gryffindor,” Professor McGonagall said.

“He’s dating!” Ron snapped.

“Not that sort of interest, Mr. Weasley,” Professor McGonagall said, “It might be a good idea to take an interest in helping a younger member of the house yourself. It is quite easy to become lost at Hogwarts if you feel you have no friends.”

* * *

“Ten points for being late Potter,” Professor Snape said as Harry entered the dungeon classroom Tuesday morning.

“Sorry,” Harry said, joining the table with Ron and Hermione.

“No, Mr. Longbottom needs…assistance,” Professor Snape said.

Harry moved, stood next to Neville.

“Careful Longbottom,” Seamus said.

“Ignore him,” Neville whispered to Harry.

Neville took the large blade, sliced into the sea cucumber.

“Herbology uses potions,” Neville said softly to Harry, “Else I’d drop this class in a heartbeat.”

“Me too,” Harry replied.

“Don’t try to teach him anything!” Seamus said to Neville.

“Watch out!” Ernie warned.

“What’s their beef today?” Harry asked.

“It’s simple,” Neville said, “They think—”

“Why don’t you murder Professor Snape too?” Seamus whispered to Harry, “Worked for Trelawney _and_ Madam Hooch.”

“Gryffindor stands a much better chance with Oliver Wood at the helm,” Ernie said.

“You apparently murdered them,” Neville said, “Four teachers, they want you to make it five.”

“Deatheaters _killed_ them,” Harry said, “Who’s number four?”

“Quirrel, Trelawney, Hooch, and Lockhart,” Neville siad.

“Lockhart’s alive and well,” Harry said, “Got released from St. Mungo’s, he was just mental, that’s all.”

“Just three then?” Neville asked.

“Only one,” Harry said, “Quirrel tried to kill me, I had to.”

“Given how close you came to breaking Seamus’ neck—” Neville said.

“That wasn’t me!” Harry said.

“Can you at least understand _his_ perspective,” Neville said, “It was pretty convincing.”

“I know,” Harry said, “And they sell costumes, including masks, at Diagon Alley, could have been _anybody_.”

* * *

That afternoon, Harry didn’t even wait to clear the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, he moved fast up into the office, closed the door, before Professor Tonks opened the door to an empty office. Ron, however, followed Hermione out of the classroom.

“Wood wants to talk with me,” Ron said, “Meet up with you in the Library.”

Ron gave Hermione a kiss. She made for the fifth floor, while Ron went down to the ground floor.

“Good afternoon Weasley,” Oliver Wood said, “On time.”

“It concerns Quidditch,” Ron said.

“Of course,” Oliver Wood said before he let out a brief chuckle. “I apologize if I seemed harsh last week. Understand that though I’d love to favor Gryffindor, as a member of staff, I simply can’t. However, given the schedule, you need the practice, right?

“Yeah,” Ron said.

“I’m thinking its best to go to one day a week, say Monday, where the field is yours,” Oliver Wood said, “Each team gets one day, and after that, they can coordinate with me to share it.”

“Oh?” Ron asked.

“It’s the fairest way I can think of,” Oliver Wood said, “That gives you four days a week; you can still haggle to switch with another team’s day, if you wish.”

“I guess it’s better,” Ron said, “Thanks.”

“Oh, you’d better lead Gryffindor team to the Quidditch Cup,” Oliver Wood said.

Ron belted out a bit of a laugh, started to leave.

“Good luck,” Oliver Wood said.

Ron left, went up the stairs, toward the library. A scream came from within. Ron ran fast. More screams. Quickly, the door opened, Parvati was escorted out by Padma, hand to a bloodied handkerchief.

“Out! Out!” yelled Seamus as he shoved Hermione out of the library.

“I’m going!” Hermione shouted.

“Get your fucking hands off her!” Ron yelled as he charged at Seamus.

Seamus, however, closed the library door; Ron ran into it, bounced off.

“Ron!” Hermione said.

Ron stumbled slightly, stood back up.

“What happened?” Ron asked.

“Get you to the Hospital Wing, that cut—” Hermione pointed to her lower lip “—looks nasty.”

Ron put his fingers, felt the cut.

“Rather not,” Ron said, “Know a good charm?”

They moved away from the Library.

“A simple Healing Charm, you should know it too,” Hermione said.

“Afraid it’s gone,” Ron said, “I’d trust you.”

Hermione stood, aimed her wand. Ron felt the cut lessen, dabbed at it, the bleeding had stopped, but it was still tender.

“I’ll live,” Ron said.

They went up the steps.

“I was just reading when Parvati screamed out,” Hermione said, “She accused me of hexing her.”

“You wouldn’t,” Ron said.

“Sure, I do know the charm, but I wouldn’t use it,” Hermione said, “Bloody nose, very bloody, stains everywhere. Seamus believed her.”

“So he _did_ lay a hand on you,” Ron said.

“Yes,” Hermione said, “Don’t go back, don’t fight him.”

“I’d—I’d otherwise would,” Ron said.

“Thank you,” Hermione said as they came to the Fat Lady, “But don’t stoop to his level.”

“It’d feel good,” Ron said as they entered the common room, “Upstairs.”

Ron and Hermione went up the stairs, entered the boys dormitory.

“Suppose I could study up here,” Hermione said. She glanced around, the desks were cluttered, even white briefs on Neville’s. Trunks were still left open, though some clothes were neatly folded, the beds made, apparent the House Elfs had already done their rounds.

“Seamus, Seamus,” Ron said, “I’ll let him know how I feel!”

“Don’t pick a fight!” Hermione said.

“Don’t have to,” Ron said as he dropped his trousers next to Seamus’ bed.

“Ron!” Hermione exclaimed.

Ron aimed his dick and began to piss. Hermione watched Ron move his todger, the stream soaked into Seamus’ bed covers.

“Let him enjoy that!” Ron said.

“That’s _if_ he’s sleeping there tonight,” Hermione said, “It’s going to stink up the entire room.”

“Oh, right,” Ron said, “Um…I’ve got an idea.”

“What?” Hermione asked.

“It’s better than you think,” Ron said, taking out his Hogwarts pin, “They won’t find us in your bedroom.”

“My parents bought the codswallop on the weekend pass,” Hermione said, “They won’t buy this.”

“You keep your door closed, right?” Ron asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said.

“Then, lets stay quiet,” Ron said, “A charm to stay hidden.”

“Tempting,” Hermione said.

“Got everything?” Ron asked.

Hermione nodded.

“Okay,” Ron said, as he activated the Portkey. Hermione held on.

They landed in Gia’s bedroom, where Harry’s clothes were on the floor.

“Where are they?” Hermione asked.

“Eating, most likely,” Ron said, “Remember what she’s doing to tease Harry into eating.”

Ron gave a quick stroke to Hedwig’s feathers, went out of the bedroom, down the steps.

“Shh!” Hermione said to Snuffles, laying on the sofa.

Ron and Hermione went out of 26 Oak; Hermione led the way, and they made it to her house, went up the stairs, and slid into the bedroom.

“What’d I tell you?” Ron said, as he began to strip, “Much better.”

Hermione gave Ron a kiss.

“Thank you,” Hermione said to the starkers Ron.

Ron sat cross–legged on the bed, removed his books. He watched Hermione remove her clothes, she sat to face Ron.

“This is how we ought to be studying,” Ron said, “I think you study better starkers.”

Hermione snorted.

“Well, are you going to prove me wrong?” Ron asked.

Hermione shook her head, chuckled. Ron worked on his Charms essay, his eyes kept glancing at her breasts, and she returned the smile.

* * *

Hermione listened carefully Wednesday morning, at her bedroom door, waiting. She motioned, and Ron followed, starkers, to the bathroom. Hermione handed Ron the bottle of shampoo, the one that reminded her of the outdoor air when horseriding. Ron worked it in, underneath the water of the shower.

“Much better,” Hermione said, “Shame we can’t do it often.”

“Why not?” Ron asked.

“We’re supposed to be at Hogwarts, remember?” Hermione said, “Professor Dumbledore won’t trust us if we keep sneaking off like this.”

“Emergency use only?” Ron asked.

“Agreed,” Hermione said.

Ron paid attention to her breasts, worked the soap, and scrubbed out a slight dirty blemish. She washed him. Quickly, they dried themselves, before returning to Hermione’s large bedroom with its queen sized mattress.

“Ready?” Ron asked.

Hermione gathered her bookbag, a couple extra changes of underwear, and her clothes. Ron activated the Portkey.

“Good morning,” Harry said as Ron and Hermione returned to Hogwarts.

Harry was already dressed, while Ron quickly dressed.

“Rough day yesterday,” Ron said.

“What’d they blame me for?” Harry asked.

“Not you,” Ron said, “They blamed Hermione.”

“It’s not fair!” Hermione said, “I was minding my own business, studying, when…it happened.”

“Which means I’m about to hear about it,” Harry said.

“Yeah,” Ron said as he put his tie on. “Hermione, now you.”

Hermione borrowed Ron’s cloak, they went out the dormitory. Harry followed. They went down the stairs; Ron and Hermione went up the others, into the girls’s side. After they came back down to the common room, Harry was smiling.

“What?” Ron asked.

Harry pointed to the bulletin board, with a notice on it.

“Hogsmeade!” Ron exclaimed, “Saturday, I assume you’re bringing Gia?”

“Are you kidding?” Harry said, “Of course!”

Hermione rolled her eyes, and they left, headed down the Great Hall.

“Try to think about something else,” Hermione said.

“He’s not,” Ron said.

After Ron ate the most at breakfast and Harry touched nothing, they left the Great Hall.

“Study hall, I think,” Ron said as he consulted his schedule, “Yep, the library.”

“Mine too,” Harry said, “Well, could be worse, I suppose, you could ask Colin to try to make Witch Weekly , again.”

“Yeah, pages two and three,” Ron said.

“I don’t want to destroy anything,” Hermione said, “But Colin’s camera must be stopped.”

“Hopefully I convinced him to drop it,” Harry said.

“Doubtful,” Ron said, “He may not be getting a scholarship, but I heard he’s making handsomely for all the pictures he’s been getting of you.”

“Thanks,” Harry grumbled.

They entered the library; took seats at a table in the middle. Eyes glared, stared at them, mutterings. Hermione brought a couple of books back from the shelf, sat on the edge of the table, flipped the pages as she read through it. Ron, though, guarded his books, and notes, at the other end of the table. Harry, in the middle, just focused on the essay he was working.

Parvati thumbed a book, skimmed, as she walked past Hermione. She screamed as she fell to the floor, writhed. Eyes went fast onto her. Padma tried to reach Parvati, but joined on the floor, writhing in agony. Both Parvati and Padma convulsed for half a minute.

“Parvati! Padma!” Hermione demanded, “What—?”

“You!” Parvati accused, she shook as she stood, finger pointed right at Hermione, “Thinking you could use me as a guinea pig for your Unforgivable!”

“I didn’t,” Hermione protested.

“No use denying it now,” Padma said.

“Hermione,” Ron pleaded, notes and books packed.

“Maybe the Great Hall will be better,” Harry stated.

Quickly, Ron, Hermione, and Harry left the library.

* * *

Thursday afternoon, Harry flew starkers from Hogwarts castle, down to the Quidditch Pitch. Ash was already there, also starkers, while holding the Cleansweep seven.

“Glad to see that Oliver decided to lend you that,” Harry said, “Yes, the Shooting Star is safer, but much slower.”

Ash grinned.

Harry stood there, Firebolt in hand, the soft dick hanging from his pubic hair, as a fine mist reminded him that his skin was still sensitive.

“Gale asked,” Ash said, “I’m not talking to him, so I haven’t told him about the lessons.”

“What matters is that you want to fly,” Harry said, to the young naked boy, standing in front of him, “Persistence pays off. Ready?”

“No,” Ash replied.

“Did you practice?” Harry asked.

“Gale caught me…embarrassing,” Ash said. Ash tugged on his foreskin, worked his fingers, until the small dick stiffened. “This takes…effort.” Ash tickled, rubbed, teased his testicles, massaged his erection for a moment, he relaxed. “There, feels good.”

“It should,” Harry said, “Alright, I’ll fly next to you, just get on, don’t go too high.”

Ash mounted the Cleansweep. Again, his left hand returned to massage the shaft, and Ash began to hover. Harry got onto the Firebolt, sideways, it started to go up, kept pace with Ash.

“I’m doing it!” Ash exclaimed.

“Yes you are,” Harry said.

Ash screamed a bit in exhilaration, but he pulled back on the handle to the Cleansweep. Ash went straight upward, well over the top of the stands, kept going up, when his hands slipped and he let go. Ash fell. Harry swung his leg over the Firebolt, accelerated toward something way more precious than a golden snitch. Harry extended his arms, caught the falling naked boy. Ash took grip of the front of the broom, reached behind, found Harry’s penis, massaged it stiff. Harry, though, moved the broom, went for the Cleansweep still flying, now headed for the Whomping Willow. Ash held on, trembled, as Harry caught the broom just underneath the trunk that was contorting. The Whomping Willow took a swing, but Harry pulled a hard left, they U–turned around the trunk, and Harry made for the pitch.

“I’ll never be able to do that,” Ash said.

“Yes you can,” Harry said, now standing there, the erection jutting straight out, “Just put in the effort, that’s all. You just started.”

“I heard you had talent,” Ash said.

“That too,” Harry said, “But you can still fly, it still takes practice. Let’s try it again.”

Harry held the Cleansweep seven as Ash got onto it. Again, Ash played with his dick for a minute. He began to float, to rise. Harry sat sideways on his Firebolt, rode alongside Ash, watched every twitch in this first years’ muscles.

“You’ve got the hang of it,” Harry said.

“Not like you,” Ash said.

“You just started,” Harry said, “It’ll come.”

“You’re not going to hit?” Ash asked.

“Why’d I do that?” Harry replied.

“Colbert does,” Ash said, “He never got a letter, was glad I left.”

“It—it happens,” Harry said, “Believe in yourself, alright?”

“I heard others talking,” Ash said, “Did you really kill a teacher?”

“He attacked me, but when I touched him, he fell apart,” Harry said.

“Termites, it had to been termites,” Ash said, “Those little buggers will eat _everything_. Colbert put them in my toybox, it had to be burned.”

“He was possessed, Voldemort possessed the teacher,” Harry said.

“You said—his name!” Ash said, “He’s the one who killed—”

“My parents,” Harry said, “Never knew my father.”

“Thought I saw mine at King’s Cross,” Ash said, “Just a glimpse, not sure.”

“Huh?” Harry asked, surely, this kid knew what his father looked like.

“Mum called him a deadbeat,” Ash said, “I don’t really remember, some solicitor.”

“Sorry,” Harry said.

“Whoa!” Ash screamed as he began to fall.

Harry had quickly noted that Ash’s dick had already gone soft. Harry pursued, caught Ash. Ash held on, gripped Harry’s hard erection, and they moved back down.

“See?” Harry said, “You flew.”

Ash smiled as they landed. Ash jumped, arms around Harry’s neck, and swung. Harry stumbled, caught Ash, arms beneath Ash’s buttocks. Ash reflected Harry’s grin.

“Thank you,” Ash said.

Quickly, Ash’s left hand reached beneath him, found Harry’s hard cock, massaged it, pulled the foreskin to let it slip. Nearly as quickly, Harry felt the tremor as Ash stood up. A pulse, a jet, and Harry ejaculated, sending his seed out, dribbled on Ash’s foot.

“Why?” Harry asked.

“That’s how that red haired girl does it to that older bloke with a camera,” Ash said, “Your year, right?”

Harry realized Ash was describing Ginny giving Colin a handjob.

“It’s not necessary,” Harry said.

“You’re walking a fine line Mr. Potter,” Professor McGonagall said as she approached. Her emerald robes billowed as she walked toward them.

Ash quickly dressed and left.

“I’m not doing anything wrong,” Harry said, defensively.

“I did not imply that,” Professor McGonagall said, as she started to walk Harry back to the castle, “It is merely a noble thing, to be a big brother to a housemate who needs it.”

“I’m just teaching him to fly,” Harry said.

“That’s how it starts,” Professor McGonagall said, “Mr. Hurley has not acclimated particularly well to Hogwarts. He had a friend in Hufflepuff, but that seems to have gone ill. You are the _only_ person at Hogwarts he will speak to.”

“Really?” Harry asked.

“Really,” Professor McGonagall said.

“I thought you were going to yell at me as we were naked,” Harry said.

“For whatever reason, that has garnered his trust in you,” Professor McGonagall said, “Do not squander it.”

They entered the castle.

“Good day,” Professor McGonagall said.

Harry climbed the steps, ignored the glances as he strolled starkers, the soft dick swaying as he moved; made it to Gryffindor Tower. He entered the common room, a glint of light drew his eyes. Ash, in the corner, beneath a table, a sullen face, tried to hide his sobs. Harry waved, motioned for Ash to follow. Ash shook his head. Harry went up the stairs, the thought of Gia stiffened his cock before he entered the dormitory.

“Another lesson?” Ron asked as Harry slid across the floor.

“Yeah,” Harry said, his hard erection supervising as he rummaged his trunk, “Poor kid, wants to fly, but makes Hermione seem talented.”

“Rough,” Ron said, “Packing?”

“Figure it’d be good to have an outfit there,” Harry said, pulling out a pair of trousers, shirt, “You know, be a bit easier.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Harry Potter?” Ron asked.

Harry snorted. “No, though Gia kinda wants to help, maybe even make an alteration or two.”

“Right,” Ron said.

Harry secured his bookbag to his shoulder, with the new clothes stuffed into them. Harry took out his Hogwarts pin as he stood, his hard dick jutted outward as he tapped his wand, activated the Portkey. As he waited the several seconds, rapidly approaching footsteps came in from behind. Hands gripped Harry’s shoulders as he felt the jerk behind the naval.

Harry felt the small penis against his back and realized who it was, Ash. Harry was already committed, the Portkey pulling, however, Ash wasn’t touching the Portkey, the fingers were clenched into his shoulders, the nails digging. Harry reached behind him, blindly held Ash’s butt, it was a bare butt as his fingers slipped into the crack, and held on as tightly as he could.

They landed, tumbled onto Gia’s bed. Harry turned around, faced Ash.

“Harry?” Gia asked, Ash blushed as he saw she was naked, the breasts hanging out.

“I need to get you back,” Harry said, “Hold on.”

Ash shook his head.

“Mind?” Harry asked Gia.

Gia left the bedroom. Harry closed the door, faced Ash. Ash’s eyes focused on the foreskin to Harry’s hard erection jutting out.

“They killed Kermit,” Ash said.

“What? Who?” Harry asked.

“Some big Slytherin,” Ash said, “Gale tried to stop them, shoved him, us, took Kermit, cut him up. They laughed.”

“We’re going to see Professor McGonagall,” Harry said.

“No,” Ash said, “Kermit is dead.”

Ash begun to cry a bit more, sunk his head against Harry’s chest. Ash held Harry tightly, not minding Harry’s pressing hard dick.

“Okay, okay,” Harry said, “You can stay the night, we’ll go back in the morning. Alright?”

Ash nodded, kept crying.

“I need to talk with Gia, she’s my girlfriend,” Harry said.

“Oh,” Ash said.

“Yeah, got one of those,” Harry said, “It’s her bedroom. Here Hedwig.”

Harry held out his arm, Hedwig flew over, landed on it.

“Owl?” Ash asked.

“Yep,” Harry said, “Treat her gently.”

Ash stroked a feather, Hedwig flew back.

“Pretty,” Ash said.

“I’ll be right back, going outside this door for just a minute,” Harry said, “Will you be okay for a minute?”

Ash nodded, let Harry go. Harry opened the door, closed it as he left, Gia was on the landing.

“You picked up a stray?” Gia asked.

“You could say that,” Harry said, “He’s a first year, he’s pretty shaken up and terribly shy—won’t talk if anybody else is around. I think he just needs the night to calm down.”

“I took you in,” Gia said.

“Thank you.” Harry gave her a kiss.

Harry returned to the bedroom, Ash was curled up on the bed.

“Alright, I’m about to share my very personal life with you,” Harry said, “Can you keep it to yourself, keep it a secret?”

“Yes,” Ash said.

“She agreed, you can spend the night,” Harry said.

“Thank you,” Ash said.

“Gia!” Harry said, as he laid down on the bed.

Gia opened the door, watched as Ash moved back against Harry, pulled Harry’s arm around him, and Harry held.

“Okay, I’m jealous,” Gia said.

Ash turned over, nearly on top of Harry, Ash’s legs spread apart, over Harry’s right; Ash’s genitals smashed against the thigh, Harry’s hard dick against the hip, while Harry’s bollocks gave a bit of cushioning to Ash’s loin. Ash, though, trained his blue eyes beneath the black hair onto Harry’s green eyes.

“Ash needs this,” Harry said.

“I need dinner, and so do you,” Gia said, “And I presume this friend you adopted—”

“He adopted me,” Harry said.

“That’s the way it always works,” Gia said, “Come, both of you.”

“Come on,” Harry said, “You’re probably hungry too.”

Ash moved, let Harry get up. Ash gave a quick start, jumped, put his arms around Harry’s neck, legs around the waist. Harry held the legs, and left the bedroom. Gia giggled a bit as they went down the steps; she grabbed her purse, looped it over her shoulder. Harry marched out of the house, Gia to the side, and Ash still on his back.

“We’re starkers,” Ash whispered, “They’ll see…”

“You’re with me,” Harry said, “You’ll be fine.”

Harry walked, they walked, along the roads, coming to High Street Burgers and Chips , entered. Gia ordered, chicken strips along with a cheeseburger, fries, a milkshake, and a soda. Harry sat on the bench at a table, Ash got off, slid in tight, next to Harry. Gia carried the tray over, set it down. Gia sat, on the table, legs spread in front of Harry. She grabbed a chicken strip, rubbed it for a moment in a napkin, twice, dipped it into the milkshake, and threaded it into her vulva. Ash’s eyes went wide as Harry began to eat.

“It’s how we do things,” Gia said.

Ash watched as Harry worked chicken strip after chicken strip, steak fry after steak fry, like this. Ash nibbled a bit at the cheeseburger, ate a bit more, before he swallowed the whole thing, drank the soda. Gia sat there, ate the rest of it, let Harry study the vagina on the table as she ate.

Burp!

Ash blushed.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about,” Harry said, “I just ate from her pussy, not embarrassed about that.”

“Lets get back,” Gia suggested.

“Alright,” Harry said, “Come Ash.”

Again, Ash moved fast, jumped, held Harry’s neck as Harry held the legs. They walked back to 26 Oak.

“Hut tub?” Gia asked.

“Guess so,” Harry said.

Harry entered, climbed the steps.

“Be a moment,” Gia said.

Harry went through Richard’s bedroom, which was empty, out onto the roof deck. Ash got off as Harry removed the cover. Harry lifted Ash, stepped into the hot tub, the bubbles roaring, and Ash sat on Harry’s lap.

“Feeling better?” Harry asked.

“A bit,” Ash replied, “I’ll miss Kermit.”

“How long did you have him?” Harry asked.

“Years,” Ash said, “I thought it was a gift from my father, I…”

Gia came out, got into the tub, to the opposite side of Harry.

“He’s a real quiet one,” Gia said.

“You just have to…” Harry figured it out, Ash’s behavior, “Get closer.”

Harry’s arms pushed, the knees raised Ash to float. Ash hooked his legs over Gia’s shoulders, the each buttock rested on Gia’s boobs, the pouch of the scrotum and the soft intact penis laid right in front of her face.

“Just massage, stimulate,” Harry said, used his glances to direct Gia’s eyes to Ash’s crotch.

Ash tensed up as Gia’s fingers worked the scrotum, massaged the penis, the erection formed fast, until he relaxed.

“He’s stimulated,” Gia said.

“Thanks,” Ash said.

“Who killed Kermit?” Harry asked.

“Dunno,” Ash said, “Silver haired, tall.”

“You lost a friend,” Harry said, “But you’ve got friends here.”

“I know,” Ash replied.

Harry felt the relief, wondered how it was related to him flying, but still, Harry was glad he found a way to boost Ash’s confidence, even if it was a bit quirky.

“Kermit is—?” Gia asked.

“My frog…” Ash said, “Was my frog.”

“Colbert is—?” Harry asked.

“Brother, I’ve got two,” Ash said, “Ian and Colbert, both older.”

Harry glanced at Gia, her fingers had withdrawn.

“Keep it up,” Harry said to Gia.

Gia returned to massaging, plying into Ash’s genitals.

“Ian does nothing but boss me around,” Ash said, “Mum puts up with it, I guess, because I’ve got no Dad, not that I know. I thought he was dead until I realized what deadbeat meant. He doesn’t pay Mum, like he should. Likely won’t get any better, I thought Colbert was bad enough, taunting me, but I get to Hogwarts, and, it’s just the same, but worse—sorry Harry!”

“I get it,” Harry said, “I get there and Snape likes docking me points, could be because it’s a sunny day, or raining, doesn’t matter, he hates me.”

“Gale kept stealing Kermit, hiding,” Ash said, “Then Slytherin found it. Gale tried to stop them, but we’re first years.”

“I will talk with Professor McGonagall tomorrow,” Harry said, “It’s not right, you shouldn’t lose a friend there.”

“Thank you,” Ash said.

“Remember, I wasn’t supposed to bring you here,” Harry said.

“I jumped,” Ash said, “I didn’t think you’d be traveling.”

“I _don’t_ advertise it,” Harry said, “Lets me be with my girlfriend here, every night.”

“Lucky,” Ash said.

“I go to Hogwarts, I get noticed,” Harry said, “Here, here, I’m just Harry. Too much of either being noticed, or not, is a bad thing.”

“I understand,” Ash said.

“You’re a Gryffindor,” Harry said, “Accept that, and we can work on the rest.”

“Thank you,” Ash said.

Ash yawned, started to doze.

“Together,” Harry said to Gia.

Together, Harry and Gia lifted Ash out of the hot tub. With one hand, Gia dried Ash, and they carried him into the house, into Gia’s bedroom. They laid him down onto the bed.

“Must admit to being a bit awkward about stimulating a—how old did you say he was?” Gia asked.

“I think he’s eleven,” Harry said, “That’s the general starting age, though Hermione placed a year early.”

“A bit young,” Gia said.

“I haven’t a clue _why_ ,” Harry said, “But when he was orgasming earlier today, he could fly, and I thought he’d talk to you if you did, and he talked. Whatever hangup he has, those dry orgasms are getting him over it, lets me help him.”

“How do his teachers do it?” Gia asked.

“They’re not,” Harry replied.

“Charitable, noble of you,” Gia said as she kissed him.

Harry laid in the bed, surrounded Ash’s backside, let Ash push back against Harry’s chest. Gia did the same to Harry, the boobs pressed on Harry’s back. Harry let his warm, growing, erection push against Ash’s butt as Ash clearly wasn’t minding. Gia pulled the blankets over them and Harry went to sleep.

* * *

“Thank you Mr. Potter for this information,” Professor McGonagall said the next morning, “I wish Mr. Hurley had come forward sooner, his frog might have been spared.”

“I only learned about it last night,” Harry said, standing to the other side of the desk in her office, “Took a bit to get him to trust me.”

“Understood,” Professor McGonagall said, “Mr. Hurley has a bright mind, his homework…well, he is still a first year, so not perfect, can’t say he’s the best as Miss. Granger set that bar too high for any other that followed in her footsteps.”

Harry smiled.

“Please, keep working with Mr. Hurley, for his sake,” Professor McGonagall said, “And yours.”

“Mine?” Harry asked.

“To mentor, to teach, is a rewarding endeavor,” Professor McGonagall said, “Each student is an individual, worthy of your attention. Curses are frequently hurled at you, but you must perseviere because in the end, they will succeed based on your efforts. It’s a worthy profession, paying what you have learned, forward onto the generations to come.”

“Thank you Professor,” Harry said.

“Good luck,” Professor McGonagall said, “I look forward to seeing your girlfriend tomorrow.”

“She’s eager to come,” Harry said.

Harry left the office; he nodded to Ash. Ash smiled. Harry escorted Ash to the third floor, to the Charms classroom.

“Just remember,” Harry said, holding out his wand, “You can take on a mountain troll so long as you swish and flick.”

Ash went into the classroom. Harry left, went outside to Hagrid’s Hut for Care of Magical Creatures.

* * *

“To have to put on _clothes_ just to hang out with you,” Gia said, Saturday morning.

“Small price to pay,” Harry said, “Like this is any more comfortable.”

Harry activated his Portkey, Gia held on.They landed in Harry’s four poster bed. This time, Harry wore his classic blue striped jumper, blue T–shirt, and blue jeans. Gia wore a sweatshirt and sweatpants, carried her purse from her shoulder. They climbed out of the bed, left the dormitory, went down the stairs, to enter the common room.

“That’s him?” Gia asked, pointed to the fireplace.

Harry saw the posture of the back, sitting on the floor, to the other end of the sofa, nearly out of view. Harry walked around, it was Ash.

“Hi,” Harry said, “We’re off to Hogsmeade—you’re too young to go, but I’ll come back early, we’ll get a bit of flying in, alright?”

Ash nodded, waved as Harry and Gia left.

“He’s not too happy,” Gia said.

“I’ll ask, see if he can tag along,” Harry said.

“One night was one thing,” Gia said, “This is where he belongs, right?”

“Trying to belong,” Harry said, “Not doing too well.”

“You’ll make it happen,” Gia said.

They left the castle, walked the ruts in the road, which brought them down to Hogsmeade.

“Hogsmeade, the best village in all of Britain,” Ron said, “Mum used to love coming …“ Ron softened. “Visit Madam Rosmerta.”

They first went to the Three Broomsticks, entered.

“Hey, show her around,” Ron said to Harry.

Harry understood, Ron wanted a bit of time with Hermione. Harry brought Gia out of the pub.

“I was kinda wanting something,” Gia said.

“We’ll come back,” Harry said, “Let you see Honeydukes .”

Harry and Gia walked along. Gia moved fast, walked right behind Harry, wrapped her arms around his waist, her hands dug beneath his trousers, felt the todger, the balls. Harry giggled as Gia played. She felt the stiffness, glanced, saw no hint, the expanding crotch of Madam Malkin gave plenty of room, there was no binding on the cloth. Harry pushed the handle, but it was already filled with other students as they entered. Harry sank a bit, glanced upward, to watch Gia’s eyes as she marveled.

“Like that candy shop from Willy Wonka’s and the Chocolate Factory ,” Gia said, “Just better.”

“I think they make the most when Hogwarts lets us out,” Harry said, “Get some fudge.”

“On the condition we’ll share it,” Gia said.

“Of course,” Harry said, “I wouldn’t take it all.”

“I know you won’t,” Gia said, “Don’t think they’d make the thing I’d really like to suck on.”

Harry smiled as she fiddled with his erection. They walked to the counter.

“A double piece of fudge,” Harry said.

Harry pulled out his wallet, sorted through the assortment of coins, some pounds, some in francs, some in Deutsche Marks, and some in Galleons and Sickles. He handed over the coins, took the fudge. Harry and Gia left the shop.

“Good spot to eat that?” Gia asked.

“Lets try the Shrieking Shack,” Harry said. Harry led the way, up the small path, to the fence that bordered it.

“So,” Gia asked, “Is this where we came to last spring?”

“Yep,” Harry said.

Gia pulled her hands out of Harry’s trousers and grabbed the fudge. She put half of the piece into Harry’s mouth, moved hers in. Harry understood, latched on. Their tongues teased each other, accepted the dribbles of chocolately goodness, while their hands reached beneath the shirts. Harry felt her breasts and Gia held Harry tight. Slowly, neither actively worked on the fudge, let it melt in their mouths between their dueling warm breaths. Flavor coated their teeth, while they fixed their eyes onto the ears, as the heads were angled to each other. Both mouths stayed open to each other, their lips sealed, while the molten sweet moved undecided between them, each wave sent a bit more down their gullets. Harry’s cock twitched for a moment beneath his jeans, excited. Soon, the treat had disintegrated, vanished, the teeth returned to tasting like teeth, and they separated.

“We’ll have to do that again,” Gia said.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “There’s more.”

Harry and Gia passed some other students as they returned to Hogsmeade. Harry took Gia into the Post Office.

“So many owls,” Gia said.

“Some bite,” Harry said, “Not Hedwig, she’ll nip a bit if she needs something.”

“You’ve got a lot of charm to you,” Gia said, “You’d probably make friends with a snake.”

“They talk to me,” Harry said, “And I can talk to them.”

“Good,” Gia said, “A few people at school could do with a scare.”

“No, no,” Harry said, “Not going to do that, again.”

“So it’s happened?” Gia asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“Suppose there’s a lot more to show around here,” Gia said, “How soon until the next weekend here?”

“I’d guess the weekend before Halloween,” Harry said.

“Lets not take the fun out of that one,” Gia said, “Anything else you’d like to show?”

“Um…” Harry’s eyes fell onto the storefront to Zonko’s Joke Shop , with a large sign.

Free Dungbombs with every purchase of five Sickles or more.

(Limit twelve per customer, cannot be combined with other offers.)

“Oh, you’ve got to check them out,” Harry said.

Gia and Harry walked into Zonko’s Joke Shop . Gia lifted a bar of soap.

“That spawns frogs when used,” Harry said, “Don’t even think about—”

“Richard would love to give this to Ant,” Gia said.

“Then how’d we explain away the frogs?” Harry asked.

“It’s a nice thought,” Gia said.

“I know, I know,” Harry said, “They’re too nice, lets not.”

“We’ve got to get them something,” Gia said, picking up a teacup. It bit her nose, Gia shrieked. Harry caught the cup.

“This—keep this on your dresser,” Harry said, “When Ant snatches—she’d get bitten.”

“You talked me into it,” Gia said.

“Mind you, I think Fred and George do it better,” Harry said, “This stuff is good…for filler, you know, for the little things.”

Harry grabbed a basket, added a couple of cups, along with some Dungbombs and other goods. He paid, they met up with Ron and Hermione starting to leave themselves.

“Hi,” Ron said, “You look well supplied.”

“Yeah,” Harry said as he quickly shoved the whole lot into Gia’s purse.

“I can tweak the purse, later,” Hermione said, “Give it a bit more room.”

“That’d be nice,” Gia replied.

“Hermione wants to get the latest copy of Transfiguration Today ,” Ron said as he twiddled his finger beside his head, “Bit mental, but it’s her.”

Hermione pulled on Ron’s hand, and all four of them went toward Kildary’s and Milton’s , next to Dervish and Banges . They entered the bookshop. Hermione worked through the small racks of their books. Ron pulled off a copy of Professional Quidditch Matches, Moves, and Scores, 1995—1996 .

“They don’t publish the current stuff, just last season’s,” Ron said, “Not useful for betting. For that, you’d want this.” Ron grabbed Quidditch Gazetteer, United Kingdom, 1996—1997 . “Lists the players…see…look.” Ron showed the listing for Puddlemere United , where Oliver Wood was listed as the primary Keeper. “Hey—those slime, they didn’t tell me!” Again, Harry glanced, saw the reserve Beaters listed as Fred and George Weasley. Harry glanced further, saw Katie Bell listed as a reserve Chaser.

“She did reasonably good,” Harry said, “Funny, I wonder if Wood’s trying to recreate the old Gryffindor team.”

“If that’s the case, expect a recruitment call,” Ron said, “Blimey, if so, could you get me a call with the Chudley Canons ? Though, suppose any team would be good—drawback, going up against Kathy Hudson.”

“Who?” Harry asked.

“Best curves, tall, and lead Chaser for the Canons,” Ron said, “About three years older than us.”

“Oh,” Gia said, glancing over Ron’s shoulder, “Best not to drool over that around Hermione.”

“Yeah, right,” Ron said as he closed the magazine, “I’m a taken man.”

Harry snorted, snickered, when they began to hear screams from outside, multiple shrieks and screams. Ron’s hands released the magazine, was in step with Harry, and bolted for the door. Gia and Hermione rushed behind, in their wake. Hands fumbled the door, started to reach for their wands, Harry and Ron, not looking as their feet pounded on the shop porch, moved. Harry tripped first over a person slumped on the steps, Ron tripped. Both Ron and Harry tumbled as the last of some very bloodied people collapsed to the graveled road. Blood splattered everywhere. Harry’s hands broke his fall into a cesspool of puddled bile tainted blood. Ron fell onto a body. Gia and Hermione stopped in time to avoid tripping, both saw the Apparating witches and wizards, Aurors who all had their wands drawn.

**_STUPEFY! STUPEFY! STUPEFY! STUPEFY!_ **

Ron and Harry began to stand up, blood on their clothes and hands, managed to get into the thick web of criss crossing Stunning Curses, curses that also found Gia and Hermione. All four blacked out.


	27. Accused

Saturday, 28 September 1996. 13:20:55.

“He’s coming to.”

Ron’s eyes fluttered open, a blast of cool air sent goosebumps to his skin, the decorations in the periphery of his vision let Ron discern that he was in the Headmaster’s Office at Hogwarts. He struggled for a moment against ropes binding him to a wooden chair; each motion made each fiber of the rope threaten to burn into his flesh as his clothes had been removed. Ron sat naked with a pressing urge to relieve himself while one of the ropes slipped between his todger and bollocks, threatening castration of his cold balls if he struggled further. In an arm chair in front of Ron sat Professor Dumbledore, flanked by two standing Professors, McGonagall and Snape. Professor Dumbledore kept his focus on Ron, blue eyes that pierced into the soul, however these eyes were currently devoid of their normal twinkle.

“Perhaps this monster cares to explain,” Professor Snape said, loudly.

“My damn head is sore enough without—!” Ron snapped.

“Twelve people died,” Professor Snape sneered, “Call the Healers—”

“Where’s…?” Ron started before the number sunk in, his expression went more somber, before his eyes glanced at Professor Snape. “Twelve?”

“From your blood fest melee,” Professor Snape said, in his usual dry tone, “Six more are under treatment in the infirmary in case you need to finish your handiwork.”

“It was not our blood fest!” Ron protested.

“Ten points for your cheek,” Professor Snape said.

“And I’m starkers!” Ron snapped.

“Your clothes were … collected as evidence,” Professor Dumbledore said. “While it’s also … the policy of the current administration … that dangerous individuals … are to be kept as such, … it will also do your case a favor.”

“The Minister will be here shortly to investigate you and your accomplices—” Professor Snape said to Ron.

“That is enough Severus,” Professor Dumbledore said, his trembling hand gripped his cane.

Professor Snape glared at Ron.

“It wasn’t us!” Ron protested to Professor Dumbledore, “We heard screams like everyone else.”

“What specifically .. do you remember?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“We were browsing the magazines in Kildary’s and Milton’s ,” Ron said, “We heard screaming, ran outside, tripped and fell. We were stunned. Weird seeing the falling—”

“Have the culprits been kept isolated like I requested?” Minister Fallerschain asked as he opened the door to the Headmaster’s office.

Flanked by two aurors, the man in the sky blue suit, entered. Ron had first glanced around, noted the absence of Harry, Hermione, and Gia, before fixing them onto the Minister. Ron felt the embarrassment of being starkers before him, as the Minister’s eyes moved to survey Ron’s physique; first the broad chest, the tight stomach, the red pubic hair, with the ropes pressing the genitals against the skin. Professor Dumbledore’s eyes moved off to the mirror that reflected Minister Fallerschain’s slender figure.

“Their guilt or innocence … remains uncertain,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Plenty of eyewitnesses,” Minister Fallerschain said, finger pointed at Ron, “Guilty, guilty, guilty — they will be executed—”

“Then you must … convince me of … their guilt,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Until then, .. any talk of them … being removed from Hogwarts … is speculation. To assist, … I will personally administer Veritaserum—”

“What?!” Ron stammered.

“Ronald,” Professor Dumbledore said, his blue eyes focused at Ron, “The Minister is pressing … capital murder charges … against both yourself … and your friends, … so everyone must be … confident in your statements … in order for them … to carry any weight. … I will personally administer it.”

“Too late,” Minister Fallerschain said, “Charges have already been filed—they are to be surrendered—”

“Stop this squabble,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Demonstrate … sufficient evidence … to warrant the charges … and I will release … them into your custody. Until then, … they remain under … my protection with authority … as the Headmaster and … as the Supreme Mugwump.”

Professor Dumbledore grabbed a teacup and the pot.

“Hardly the time for tea—it’s given orally—” Minister Fallerschain protested.

“Entertain an old man’s insistence for civility,” Professor Dumbledore stated.

Minister Fallerschain glared as Professor Dumbledore dribbled in several clear drops from a small vial into the cup of tea. Professor McGonagall cut the ropes and handed the cup to Ron.

“It this wise?” Minister Fallerschain asked, “Unbinding him? How long will it take to act? Especially in tea?”

“A minute, … I have been assured,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Regardless, Mr. Weasley … treasures my respect so … he will cooperate.”

Ron drank the tea and ate a biscuit.

“Very well,” Minister Fallerschain grumbled, “We’ll try it your way.”

Ron’s mind became perplexed, he knew he ought to be embarrassed as his todger stiffened, yet, he didn’t feel it as these people, from the Minister to the Professors and the paintings, watched his dick make record time as it stiffened as hard as it could; his dick made of point of retracting the foreskin, showed his deep pink glans with his slit to everybody.

“That happens,” Professor Dumbledore said.

Ron, though, moved forward in the chair, letting his bollocks hang freely over the edge. Both of his lumps worked the scrotum, pushed, as the skin loosened, as if it were warm despite it being cool in the Headmaster’s Office. His left hand stroked, held the lumps, while his sphincter muscles relaxed. Ron’s right hand held the dick, he peed.

“Disgusting,” Minister Fallerschain said.

“An unfortunate side effect,” Professor Snape said, “I enhanced this brew with a relaxant and an inhibition suppressor; any training against stock Veritaserum is moot.”

“Don’t tell me he’s going to take a dump!” Minister Fallerschain snapped.

Ron, though, rolled back in the chair, lifted his legs and exposed his anus; sludge began to move out.

“He took that as an order,” Professor Snape said as Ron showed his skill at defecation.

“Sick,” Minister Fallerschain said as Ron’s logs bunched up before falling off the chair.

“Some consider this to be more effective than an Imperius Curse,” Professor Snape said, “However, the effects do not last forever, so I suggest you _question_ him.”

“A bit of cleaning,” Professor McGonagall said, as she waved her wand after Ron’s bowel movements stopped, it cleaned his bum, the chair, and the floor.

Ron sat back up, bollocks hung back over the edge in front of the chair, his hard cock stayed jutting forward between his legs. After reaching into his pocket, Minister Fallerschain took out his Quick Quotes Quill and placed it onto a roll of parchment. Ron’s fingers stretched his foreskin, teased the glans.

“Name?” the Minister asked.

“Ronald Weasley.”

“Date of Birth?”

“March 1st, 1980.”

“Who is your best friend?”

“Hermione Granger and Harry Potter.”

“Who is your girlfriend?”

“Hermione Granger.”

“Minister,” Professor Snape said silkily, “I have no desire to hear Weasley’s fevered adolescent fantasies—”

Minister Fallerschain glared at Professor Snape.

“Snape is it?” Minister Fallerschain said, “Relationships are critical in my investigation, particularly those of murderers. They can indicate where lies exist that even Veritaserum cannot dispel. If you don’t want to stay, that is your choice.”

Professor Snape remained, Professor Dumbledore rolled his eyes to the Veritaserum concern. Minister Fallerschain focused back at Ron.

“Who are your parents?” Minister Fallerschain asked Ron.

“Molly and Arthur Weasley.”

“Are you a virgin?”

“No.”

“Minister,” Professor McGonagall said, “Keep the questions germane.”

Minister Fallerschain’s darted to Professor McGonagall.

“Deputy Headmistress McGonagall, Right?” Minister Fallerschain said, “Unless you’re assisting in a cover–up, I suggest you let me continue with the questioning.”

“A skilled investigator could be more discrete,” Professor McGonagall said.

“Minerva is doing her … duty as a guardian would,” Professor Dumbledore said, “After all, Mr. Weasley … is underage.”

“I am conducting the questioning,” Minister Fallerschain said, “You may conduct your own, later, when he is in Azkaban.”

Fallerschain returned his gaze back to Ron.

“What is today’s date?”

“Saturday, September 28, 1996.”

“Were you in Hogsmeade this morning?”

“Yes.”

“Which shops did you go to?”

“Three Broomsticks, Honeydukes, Zonko’s, and the bookshop.”

“Did you get blood on you?”

“Yes, but—”

“Did you see a killer at the scene before you?”

“No, but—”

“What were the injuries on the people?”

“Stab wounds, but—”

“Who was with you?”

“Harry.”

“Do you mean Harry Potter?”

“Yes, but—”

“Are you aware of the incident where Mr. Potter was purported to beat Neville Longbottom?”

“Yes, but—”

“Are you aware that Mr. Potter’s whereabouts at Hogwarts are routinely unknown.”

“Yes, but—”

“Are you aware of the incident where Mr. Potter was purported to beat Seamus Finnigan?”

“Yes, but—”

“Did you stab anybody today?”

“No.”

“Does your father know about your murders today?”

“I did not—”

“Yes or no, only.”

“Minister,” Professor Dumbledore stated, “Do not compel … any of my students … to profess guilt, … even if you have … summarily convicted Mr. Weasley.”

“Weasley and Potter are always guilty,” Professor Snape said, “Having the Headmaster hold these miscreants accountable would be a significant improvement.”

“And there is a difference between accountability and slamming them,” Professor McGonagall said, “Do not railroad them. If you are concerned at apprehending the real culprits, do not make them take the blame for the sake of convenience. It is quite conceivable that they are innocent with the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Thank you for your support—Snape was it?” Minister Fallerschain briefly glanced at Professor Snape before he brought his eyes back to Professor McGonagall. “If you have been doing your job when other incidents have come to light, perhaps this terrible tragedy could have been averted!” He turned back to Ron. “How did you dispose of your murder weapon? Pass it off—?”

“Minister,” Professor Dumbledore warned, “You are prematurely … jumping to conclusions, … and since you seem to … lack the skill, … get a qualified investigator. … Consider yourself warned.”

Ron leaned back in the chair, brought his legs up, feet to the edge of the seat, but kept them spread, the erection jutted upward, the pouch of his scrotum held the testicles distinctly between his the legs. Ron adjusted, scratched his balls.

“Where were you when you hear screaming?” Minister Fallerschain asked Ron.

“Inside the bookshop, Kildary’s and Milton’s ,” Ron said. “Does this look dirty?” Ron licked his fingers, rubbed against his left testicle.

“And you did—?” the Minister began to ask as he ignored Ron’s antics, stepped closer.

“Ran.”

“Where—?”

“Outside.”

Ron leaned back further as Minister Fallerschain towered over him.

“That’s when you started stabbing, Right?”

“I didn’t—” Ron started.

SLAP!

The Minister’s hand recoiled from Ron’s testicles.

“Ow!” Ron groaned.

“This interrogation is terminated,” Professor Dumbledore stated, “Severus, please … escort in Mr. Potter.”

Professor Snape left the office.

Minister Fallerschain glared at the Headmaster. “This is uncalled for! The Board of Governors—”

“Will support a Headmaster … protecting the students … in his charge,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I have not failed … to do so. However, … they would be interested in … learning about a Minister … trying to assault … a student within the castle.”

“Rubbish!” Minister Fallerschain protested.

“Mr. Weasley,” Professor Dumbledore said, “You are suspended … until further notice.” In a surge of magic, the old man’s speech grew steady. “I will keep your wand. You are to return to Gryffindor Tower and will remain there. Failure to comply is both unwise and would incur my wrath. Do not expect me to take any matter lightly. Am I understood?”

“Yes,” Ron said.

“Merely suspended?!” Minister Fallerschain exclaimed, “Half the inmates in Azkaban would dearly love such an arrangement!”

“Steady your tongue … Minister,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Minerva, please escort … Mr. Weasley to Gryffindor Tower.”

Professor McGonagall watched as Ron shook his balls before he rocked and stood up. His hard cock swung freely as Ron followed her through the door onto the spiral staircase; it began to descend.

“Regardless of what truly happened,” Professor McGonagall said, “I have never been more ashamed in my life at the tarnish this episode brings to the formerly impeccable reputation of the Gryffindor house. I am very disappointed.”

“It wasn’t us,” Ron replied.

They stepped off the stairs and passed the Stone Gargoyle. Harry and Professor Snape approached; Harry was also starkers though his dick was soft and nobody was smiling. Ron’s blue eyes locked onto Harry’s, sensed the apprehension in Harry, until Professor McGonagall gently placed her hand onto Ron’s back, applied a gentle nudge. Buttocks flexed, Ron walked.

“Get out of here!” yelled Ernie Macmillan as Ron and Professor McGonagall walked past, Ernie leveled his wand.

“That is unnecessary, Mr. Weasley has no wand on him,” Professor McGonagall replied.

“Check his arse!” Ernie Macmillan demanded.

Ernie was not the only one; Ron walked past many others with drawn wands trained. Professor McGonagall kept Ron moving, until they stopped in front of the Fat Lady.

“Password?” the Fat Lady challenged.

“Murder,” McGonagall replied.

The portrait swung open.

“I strongly advise you to heed Professor Dumbledore’s instructions Mr. Weasley,” Professor McGonagall said.

Ron walked through, the portrait closed, which left him facing his housemates, naked with his hard cock jutting outward, the slit bared to all to see. Ron crossed over, people cleared out of the way, as he sat on the sofa in front of the fireplace. Ron did not notice the pair of feet sticking out from beneath the sofa, the pair that quickly withdrew to hide.

Ron bemused himself, realized that this had become he had come to expect his todger, his balls, to always hang loose in front of the sofa, as they soaked in the heat from the flame.

Dean Thomas, though, glared at Ron, flashed his Prefect badge.

“Murderers are not welcome,” Dean Thomas said.

“I didn’t!” Ron protested.

“A dozen people can’t testify to that,” Dean Thomas said, “You were caught red handed! Literally!”

“We tripped!” Ron protested.

“Leave!” Dean Thomas leveled his wand at Ron. “I do not want you near me again! _Percissus_!”

Ron felt his gut wrench hard, as the fast, hard punch of the curse hit him; the momentum of the curse pushed him and couch backward. Ron’s head hit the stone floor. Dean Thomas stepped over the first year getting out of the way, towered over Ron, wand drawn and aimed at Ron’s head.

“Understood?” Dean Thomas asked.

Under the glare of the others in the common room, and the wand tip kept nudged behind the ear, Ron crawled on the floor.

“Whoa!” Seamus snapped as Ron came to the stairs.

“I’m restricted,” Ron grumbled.

“Alright, a vote!” Dean Thomas said, “Do we let him cower up in his bunk, or do we turn him over to the Aurors!”

“It’s not your decision to make,” Ron said.

“I’m the one with the wand and the badge!” Dean said.

Ginny bolted over, left her parchment to fly of the table, as she pushed Dean Thomas aside. She, with her own Prefect badge, attached to Colin’s gray jumper on her, stood there, guarded her older brother.

“They should be locked up in Azkaban!” Josh Brenner exclaimed.

“Well I don’t think they did it!” Neville said, “Always possibilities—”

“Maybe—” Thomas swung his wand around, aimed at Neville standing in front of the fireplace “—we have an—”

“Forget it,” Seamus Finnigan said as he grabbed the wand from Dean Thomas, “Some people need their own blood spilled first, several times over.”

“Perhaps.” Dean Thomas went for the door.

“Dean?” Seamus Finnigan asked.

“We want answers,” Dean Thomas stated.

Applause of the several dozen students escorted Thomas out of Gryffindor Tower, the same cheering that echoed up the stone spiral staircase, as it chased Ron up. Ginny followed, closed the door to the sixth year boys bedroom. Ron spun around, glared at Ginny, he wasn’t concerned to his hard cock now jutting outward in her direction.

“It’s a boy’s room!” Ron growled.

“I’m definitely writing,” Ginny said, penning into the air, “Dear Fred and George, I regret to inform you that your record has been murdered by none other than Ronald.”

“That _isn’t_ funny,” Ron stated.

“Lemme see…” Ginny counted on her fingers. “Bill at Gringotts, Charlie playing with dragons, Percy at the Ministry, Fred and George with their joke shop—but now you in Azkaban on mass murder.”

“It wasn’t me so shut it unless you want to be next!” Ron snapped, his fists went up.

“Fine, I’ll leave if you insist,” Ginny said as she turned around, “Besides, your blood wouldn’t go good with this jumper—Harry’s might.”

Ginny left. Ron rummaged into his trunk, brought out Apparation Theory . He sat on the trunk and started to read. He felt into his arse, his storage condom was missing.

* * *

Harry felt a brief tingle of his forehead as he drank the tea; he was sitting on the wooden chair, starkers. Like Ron before, he was sitting forward enough to let his genitals hang over the edge.

“Will we have to wait for this one to take a piss too?” Minister Fallerschain asked.

“Do not be surprised after giving a subject an inhibition suppressor that they lack inhibitions,” Professor Snape said, dryly, “Nor be surprised that a muscle relaxant would cause the subject to relax their muscles, thereby giving the subject a propensity to urinate when it is not appropriate to do so.”

“When will the Deputy Headmistress return?” Minister Fallerschain asked.

“She had an errand after escorting Mr. Weasley to Gryffindor Tower,” Professor Snape said, “Apparently.”

“For expediency,” Professor Dumbledore said, “She will use … Floo Powder … to return.”

A moment later, with her billowing green robes, Professor McGonagall walked out of the fireplace.

“You may … begin,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“What is your name?” the Minister asked Harry.

“Harry Potter.”

“Do you need to use the loo?” the Minister asked.

“Yes,” Harry said. Harry held his hard dick, aimed it toward the sky blue suit, and peed fast, hard, enough to get the trousers.

“You were warned,” Professor Snape said, dryly to the Minister.

“Date of Birth?”

“July thirty first, nineteen eighty,” Harry replied.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” the Minister asked.

“Yes,” Harry replied.

“When did you last have sex with her?” the Minister asked.

“Last night,” Harry said.

“Do not put that image into our minds,” Professor Snape said.

For a brief moment, Professor McGonagall let a quick smirk escape her lips before she brought them back in line.

“What is the name of your girlfriend?” the Minster asked.

“Gia,” Harry said.

“Where were you last night?” the Minister asked.

“In her bed,” Harry replied.

“Focus on the charges,” Professor Dumbledore said to the Minister.

“Why did you kill this morning?” Minister Fallerschain asked.

“I didn’t!” Harry protested.

“And before you interrupt—” the Minister pointed at the Headmaster “—let me remind you that interrogation is a terrible thing to have to do, but the questions must put the subject into a state of discomfort if we’re to learn anything useful.”

“Given the short notice, I have stepped in as a person of counsel until such time as a proper solicitor can be arranged,” Professor McGonagall said.

“Historically, Minister,” Professor Snape said, “Both the Headmaster and the Deputy have played favorites when it comes to Potter.”

“Evidently some things must be changed!” Minister Fallerschain said, “Mr. Potter, the charges are murder and conspiracy. If convicted, the penalties include life imprisonment in Azkaban, a Demeantor’s kiss, or execution. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Harry replied.

“Did you use a charm to kill?” Minister Fallerschain asked.

“No,” Harry replied.

“A sword?” Minister asked.

“No,” Harry said.

“Then how did Skip die?” Minister Fallerschain asked.

“Who?” Harry asked.

“The shopkeeper, of the store you claim to have visited,” the Minister said, “Did you check out the of–age collection?”

“What?!” Harry stammered.

“Consult Witch Weekly or The Daily Prophet ,“ Professor Snape said, dryly, “Potter does not need that material.”

Minister Fallerschain kept asking questions, with jabs, for a couple of hours.

“You have clearly trained Potter in the art of subterfuge!” Minister Fallerschain exclaimed, finger pointed.

“Ask relevant questions and you’ll get relevant answers,” Professor McGonagall said.

“James Otterswick will be leading the investigation,” Minister Fallerschain said, “Right now, he’s in Hogsmeade collecting evidence, he’ll be wanting to question these murderers tomorrow.”

“Mr. Potter has not been convicted, nor is it even close,” Professor McGonagall said.

“Severus, escort the Minister,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Question Miss. Granger.”

“There are to be no surprises!” the Minister said.

Professor Snape led Minister Fallerschain, and the two aurors, out of the office. This left Harry sitting in front of Professor Dumbledore on his armchair, and Professor McGonagall standing there. Harry’s eyes caught the odd glances from Professor McGonagall getting trapped by his dark pubic hair, the dangling todger was now soft.

“This is serious, isn’t it?” Harry asked.

“You are suspended,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Rules require it,” Professor McGonagall said, “As such, your wand and your Portkey have been confiscated, along with any and all other privileges. Your girlfriend, Miss. Prescott, has been returned home.”

“What?!” Harry stammered.

“As she was your guest, that is a privilege,” Professor McGonagall said, “As you are suspended, she was no longer an authorized guest of this Castle, and I personally escorted her home.”

“That’s—” Harry started.

“Those are the rules,” Professor McGonagall said, “As much as Albus and I would like to believe you, we must follow the rules, otherwise you would already be in Azkaban awaiting trial.”

“Evidence,” Professor Dumbledore said, “We need evidence.”

“Sorry, but I wasn’t planning on needing an alibi,” Harry said, “I was thinking maybe take Gia to Dervish and Banges, or the Three Broomsticks, I wasn’t counting on this…mess.”

“I’m sorry, I truly am,” Professor McGonagall said, “I’ll take you to Gryffindor Tower, you are to remain there until otherwise notified, understood?”

“Yes,” Harry said.

Harry stood and followed Professor McGonagall.

“A black day for Gryffindor,” Professor McGonagall said.

“It wasn’t _my_ fault,” Harry said, “I haven’t a clue who—unless you throw out the obvious Voldemort, but he’s nowhere near Hogsmeade.”

Like Ron, Harry faced the wands, the glares, as he walked the corridors and stairs of Hogwarts. Harry’s rage started to build, the absurdity, of having stumbled over the victims only to be accused of killing them. Now, he was stuck, trapped at Hogwarts, while Gia was in Noigate; Harry wanted to see her, wanted to see her badly, but he didn’t want to jeoparardize the faith that Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall seemed to show in him. Still, his rage grew. They made it to Gryffindor Tower, Professor McGonagall watched as Harry entered, before she closed the portrait.

Click!

Colin had his camera up, aimed at the starkers Harry.

“Can you smile?” Colin asked.

“Get bent!” Harry snapped.

Harry rushed across the common room, climbed the steps fast, before he stormed into the dormitory. He swung his arms, mad, before his right grabbed the water pitcher, threw it hard across the room.

Crash!

Glass shattered against the wall, the water poured down it, while the shards flew, rebounded, as they fell to the floor.

“Damn! Nightmare!” Harry exclaimed, “He seemed so convinced of our guilt that I swore he’s already sold out the tickets to our Demeantor’s Kiss!”

Harry stomped his feet as he circled the dormitory for a moment. Ron was still sitting naked on his trunk; he put down Dietary Habits of Effective Quidditch Players .

“Twelve—” Ron started.

“Like I don’t know that after Snape’s gloating? Oh, he and Fallerschain seemed to make a sport out of trying to trip me, of trying to confirm what they seem so convinced of—there is no way we could be anything BUT guilty!” Harry clenched his fists. “BASTARDS! Wouldn’t take anything that sounded like innocence—”

“Pressure’s a part of investigations,” Ron said.

“Going along—?!” Harry demanded.

“It was the same for me!” Ron retorted.

“DICK FALLERSCHAIN! WANTS ME DEAD! THERE’S NO OTHER REASON!” Harry said.

Harry ripped off the curtains to Seamus Finnigan’s four poster.

“Murderers go to Azkaban, if they’re nice,” said Ron.

“MAY AS WELL BE AN EXECUTION! …. ARE YOU IN? YOU’RE BLOODY CALM—!” Harry pointed his finger at Ron.

“So?” Ron said, “Like I can do a bloody thing about it.”

“FALLERSCHAIN—” Harry mocked, “WHY DID YOU MURDER AND YOU’RE A DARK WIZARD, CONFESS!”

“Sounds as pleasant as mine—do calm down, just a bit,” Ron sad.

“WHY THE FUCK SHOULD I CALM DOWN?” Harry asked.

Harry repeatedly banged his head against his own four poster.

“Dumbledore sent Gia back,” Harry said, “I can’t even go!”

“You’re not alone there,” Ron said as he pointed to Harry, red armpit hair exposed. “I’m suspended too.”

“Sorry, I didn’t think,” Harry said.

“Here,” Ron said.

Ron stood, moved behind Harry, wrapped the arms around.

“Whatchya doing?” Harry stammered.

“Helps with Hermione,” Ron said.

“I’m **not** Hermione,” Harry protested.

“Of course not,” Ron said, “Lousy pussy.” He felt Harry’s penis. “Very lousy to put my dick into.”

“It’s not helping Ron,” Harry said.

“We’re not going to get out of this by getting so mad that we accidentally bring the castle crumbling down,” Ron said, “I’ve also had a couple of hours more to calm myself down.”

Ron moved his hands to Harry’s shoulders, began to massage.

“Better,” Harry said.

Ron worked circles on Harry’s shoulder blades, moved his hands downward.

“Good,” Ron said.

“Still fucking annoying—” Harry said.

The dormitory door opened, Hermione came in. She was starkers like Ron and Harry. Ron’s todger stiffened, fast; Harry’s began to rise.

“Hi,” Ron said to Hermione.

Harry moved to his trunk, grabbed a Dungbomb, ran, lit it, and threw it into the door opening. Hermione closed the door as the Dungbomb ricocheted down the stairwell, and she locked the door.

“Am I interrupting?” Hermione asked, “Or should we continue to tick off our house?”

“No,” Harry sneered, “Why come on in!”

“You have to excuse him,” Ron said, “It’s a bad day and he’s not allowed to see Gia.”

“Got that right,” Harry snapped.

“I’m in this mess too!” Hermione exclaimed, her flashing eyes trained onto Harry’s bottle green.

“Sorry,” Harry said, a bit softer.

Harry grabbed a stool, sat on it, let his todger and balls hang over the edge.

“I take it they discussed the Demeantor’s Kiss with you,” Hermione said, “I’d rather not experience that!”

“Me neither,” Ron said, as he sat on his trunk.

Hermione sat to Ron’s right on the trunk, her left hand went around his hard erection, held his dangling testicles; however, her eyes trained themselves on Harry’s hard cock.

“I’ll happily take credit for gallantly saving your arses,” Hermione said, “I’m trying to save mine too. So, let’s put our heads together, try to vindicate us. At least with Harry, here, we’re assured at least a show trial, so let’s prepare.”

“Likely as fruitful as Sirius’ efforts were,” Harry said.

“Lets not give up without a fight,” Hermione said, “So, I know you heard the scream.”

“Discussed this a dozen times with dick face,” Harry said.

“Let’s try it,” Ron said, “I’d rather not be the Weasley sent to Azkaban, or executed.”

“Every detail,” Hermione said, “No matter how small, how trivial.”

Hermione grabbed parchment, set it in on the trunk lid next to her, and grabbed a pen.

“Harry, you opened the door,” Hermione said, “Whats the first thing you saw?”

“A falling person,” Harry said, “Not just one, many.”

“Did you see anybody standing?” Hermione asked, “Not falling?”

“Not that I could see,” Ron said.

“Nor I,” Harry said.

“Did you see the object that—?” Hermione asked.

“I did not—” Harry protested.

“I’m not accusing,” Hermione said, “I simply want your observations!”

“Wish the Minister were so kind,” Ron stated.

Harry glared.

“I didn’t see whatever killed them,” Ron said to Hermione. She pumped on Ron’s balls, for a moment, fondled them as she massaged back into his soft scrotum.

“At least one bloke gets it,” Hermione said, “I don’t know what you saw until you tell me. The Minister kept asking about weapon, not wand, so it had to of been some sort of object that killed them. Any sparks, any glints of steel, anything that could have been part of a weapon? Or from one?”

“Not that I could see,” Harry said, “I tripped, remember?”

“Focus on the first person you saw falling,” Hermione said, “How much blood did you see?”

“None,” Harry said.

“None on the one that fell toward me,” Ron said.

“So,” Hermione said, “The culprit was invisible.”

“I’m not making this up!” Harry protested.

“I never said you were,” Hermione said, her right hand pointed, “Look in your trunk for invisibility suggestions! What you described meant that whoever did it was close, very close, so the killers had to be invisible!”

“Killers?” Ron asked.

“Eighteen people attacked in the blink of an eye?” Hermione said, “All the while staying invisible, from close range, and escaping? They framed us, it was premeditated, so it must’ve been organized.”

“I doubt we’d be allowed to hunt for clues,” Harry said.

“Better than saying we didn’t do it’,” Hermione said, “Besides—”

THUMP! THUMP!

“Alohomora!”

Dean Thomas led the charge, Seamus Finnigan was one step behind. They stormed into the room.

“Assaults? Murder? Dungbombs?” Dean Thomas demanded, “Then locking us out of our own dormitory?!”

Harry’s right hand flipped Dean Thomas off. Ron’s hand felt a shard of the old water pitcher on the trunk right behind Hermione’s butt, he grabbed it.

“One move,” Dean Thomas threatened, eyes focused and wand leveled at Harry’s head, “Don’t you dare make a—”

“What’s another murder?” Ron grabbed Dean Thomas, pulled him down, and pressed the glass shard against the olive skin.

“I’m booby trapping my bed to kill!” Dean Thomas warned as he relaxed his hand, his wand.

Ron released Dean Thomas, who quickly left. Seamus Finnigan slammed the door closed. A glow of orange, and the door steel edges fused, the planks extended to join the other wood, sealed them in.

“At least they secured the door,” Harry said as he stood.

“It’s a violation of school rules,” Hermione said as she stood, “Guess it also decides the bed choices for us.”

“And they think us murderers,” Ron said, “They know they’ll get away with it.”

“Murderers?” Hermione said, “What am I going to tell my parents?”

“Wouldn’t worry,” Harry said, “They’re likely writing them.”

“Thanks a lot,” Hermione snapped.

“Tell you what,” Harry said.

“What?” Hermione asked.

Harry moved behind her, stepped in close, wrapped his arms around her, held the breasts, while his hard cock threatened her buttocks.

“No matter what, we’re still friends, agreed?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Ron said.

“Never been in doubt,” Hermione said.

“You’re…” Harry rubbed into Hermione’s stomach. “Less tense.”

“Of course,” Ron said, “She thinks you’re about to bang her.”

“Lovely idea,” Harry said, “Mind?”

“Don’t go straight for it,” Ron said, “No, no, offer her an orgasm, first.”

“Okay, orgasm?” Harry asked Hermione.

“Good idea,” Hermione said, “What’s the occasion?”

“Well,” Ron said, “We’re stuck in here, nothing else to do, and you’re stressed out.”

“So am I!” Harry quipped.

“What better way to solve it than to bang?” Ron asked.

Harry’s first grin since the nightmare began, crept across his face.

“Who’s doing this?” Hermione asked.

“Me,” Harry and Ron said, in unison.

Hermione turned around, held both Harry’s and Ron’s hard todgers.

“Hmm… wonder which one?” Hermione said, “You’re both waiting.”

“Pull a Gia,” Harry said, “Both?”

“It’s one or the other,” Ron said, “Or do you intend for her to count?”

“Got the vibrator?” Harry asked.

Ron moved to his backpack, searched, pulled out Dobby’s vibrator.

“What’s your plan?” Hermione asked.

“I…” Harry studied her carpet covered vagina, Ron’s hard erection. Harry stepped right in front of Ron, brought his erection along side Ron’s, compared the length and sizes, Ron’s was definitely shorter but thicker. Harry turned, surveyed the furniture. “Let’s try this.”

Harry brought Hermione over to his bed. Harry laid down, back to the sheets, the bunched up blankets stayed to one side, as he moved until his butt was at the foot of the bed.

“Wasn’t planning on doing you,” Ron said.

“Hermione,” Harry said, pulling her, “On top of me, face upward.”

Hermione crawled on, her back went against Harry’s chest.

“Okay,” Hermione said, “Vibrator?”

“Figured Ron’d like to use it,” Harry said, “More pleasure.”

Harry pulled his legs up, spread them wide, put his feet on the edge of the mattress. Hermione’s spread a bit, but her buttocks near his thighs, Harry tapped his hard erection against Hermione’s vagina, felt the clitoris.

“Don’t forget me,” Ron said, as he put the vibrator up his butt.

“Can you reach?” Harry said, “I can’t see.”

Ron held the top rail to the four poster, leaned in, his dick touched Harry’s fingers on Hermione’s clitoris.

“Oh,” Hermione said, “One at a time.”

“Go first,” Harry said to Ron.

“Ta,” Ron said, leaning inward. His cock slid crossways against Harry’s as it went in, and Ron drilled.

“You really liked us alternating?” Harry asked as Ron’s bollocks kept brushing his.

“It…it resolved a lot of doubts,” Hermione said, “In a good way.”

Ron stopped, pulled out, and pushed on Harry’s cock. Harry flexed his hips, let Ron fit the cock, and Harry drilled.

“I thought Harry mad at first,” Ron said, “You know, us all together, I’m loving it, Gia loves it.”

“If only it’s not messed up,” Harry said, pulling out.

Ron leaned back in, arched his back a bit as he pushed his shaft into her.

“This vibrator is really…really…” Ron said, as his testicles kept tapping against Harry’s, their hard cocks rubbed against each other, while Ron was focused on Hermione, “Next round is my last.”

Ron pulled out, helped Harry’s hard cock into her. Harry drilled, his shaft moved.

“You’re about to—?” Hermione asked.

“Can’t be helped,” Ron said.

Harry pulled out, Ron moved his in. Harry’s hard erection, felt Ron’s slide by, back and forth, as Ron drilled. Less than ten seconds later, Ron paused, Harry’s cock felt the spasm start up.

Rustle

The pile of blankets, on the bed, next to Harry, moved, as blue eyes peered out. Ron pulled out. Hermione tensed up, rolled off, pulled the blankets off as she fell over the huddled mass, landed on the floor. Ash was there, laying starkers on the bed, moved quickly to snuggle against Harry as Ron could only stare.

“Blimey!” Harry exclaimed.

Ron’s hard cock, though, had already committed, and Ron’s first volley shot out, got Ash’s butt, while the rest of the flow hit Ash as Ash turned over. Most of Ron’s sticky semen was puddled on Ash’s eleven year old chest.

“Mind—?!” Ron stammered.

“Ash!” Harry snapped.

“Is he your project?” Ron asked.

“I would’ve thought he was with the other first years,” Harry said.

“What are you doing here?” Ron asked Ash.

Ash remained quiet, turned and tried to burrow underneath Harry.

“He’s shy,” Harry said, as Ash forced Harry to roll to his side.

“We get that,” Hermione said, “Still, you have a naked first year in your bed!” She pointed to Harry where Ash tried to burrow further, Harry’s hard dick rested on Ash’s buttocks.

“If you need a butt that badly—” Ron started, patted his own.

“Thanks Ron,” Harry said, sarcastically.

Hermione, though, glanced at Ron’s buttocks, before she studied Harry’s bared anus. The vibrator flew out of Ron’s butt, zeroed in, went straight up Harry’s anus.

“Sorry,” Hermione said, “I was just thinking—”

“She wants your butt too,” Ron said.

Harry turned back, sat up, knees in the air, feet on the bed. Ash moved to sit behind Harry’s back.

“I’m not sure who’s clingier to you,” Hermione said, “Gia or this boy.”

“He’ll talk to me, in private, but won’t with you two here,” Harry said.

“How’d the teachers do it?” Ron asked.

“They don’t,” Harry said, “I’m the only one.”

“How’d you do it?” Ron asked.

“Dunno,” Harry said, “I did get him to talk to Gia the other night. Here, trust me on this.”

Harry turned, put his arm around Ash, turned back around, dragged Ash, and put Ash directly between his legs. Ash moved backward until the buttocks rested on Harry’s hard cock.

“That’s a bit close,” Hermione said.

“I have’t a clue why,” Harry said, “Ash only has the confidence to ride with me flying if he’s holding my dick. He’ll only fly on his own if I or he does this.”

Harry reached around, held Ash’s small dick, rubbed with his right hand, and it stiffened. Harry’s left hand felt into Ash’s scrotum, massaged the testicles, while his right hand stroked the erection. Harry kept this up until he felt the spasms.

“That’s not right,” Hermione said.

“Did I mention he’s shy?” Harry said, “For whatever reason, it’s like you’ve gotta insert a coin, and it’s working. Here, both of you, take over.”

Ron squatted next to the bed, took over for Harry’s fingers, massaged.

“Have you talked to Professor McGonagall about this?” Hermione asked.

“Hermione!” Ron snapped.

“Do it,” Harry said, his eyes glanced at Hermione, “Just like me or Ron, but younger.”

“I know how,” Hermione said as she knelt.

Hermione’s fingers joined in with Ron’s, worked into Ash’s genitals. Ash sighed.

“No, I haven’t spoken to her,” Harry said, “Ash’s a wizard, he came to Hogwarts to study magic, and I can help him do so; therefore, I will.”

“Ta,” Ash said to Harry.

“How’d you get in?” Harry asked, “Why?”

“Heard rumors,” Ash said, “Don’t believe them, you wouldn’t kill.”

“A supporter,” Hermione said.

“Yeah, a supporter,” Harry said, “Somebody else set us up, made it look convincing.”

“So you hid here?” Ron asked.

“Yes,” Ash said as Harry rubbed the rib cage.

“Harry, can we—talk?” Ron asked. Harry studied Ron’s blue eyes.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “Hermione’s a good witch.”

Harry lifted Ash, followed Ron into the shower. Ron closed the door.

“At least we don’t have to worry about Colin with the door sealed shut,” Ron said.

“Nope,” Harry said, “What’s up?”

“Are you mental?” Ron asked, “You shouldn’t be playing with a first year like that!”

“I can’t explain it,” Harry said, “It’s like he’s chosen me as a big brother, and he’s downright … withdrawn. If I do nothing, how soon until he drops out or gets kicked out? I don’t know what to do, but for some reason, he’ll take a hand job and he’ll get all talkative.”

“How’d this all start?” Ron asked.

“First time he flew,” Harry said, “He grabbed my cock, mistook it for the broom handle—”

“Strange,” Ron said, as he glanced down at Harry’s jutting out.

“Said it felt like his pet frog, Kermit,” Harry said.

“Equally weird,” Ron said, as he glanced at Harry’s foreskin.

“And some Slytherin murdered said frog,” Harry said, “That was two days ago. I informed Professor McGonagall, but that’s not bringing Kermit back.”

“So now, we’re playing with his bollocks,” Ron stated.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “I don’t know what to do, except to stay at it, as he feels safest with me.”

“You—you’re safe,” Ron said, “Just watch out for that madman after you.”

“Thanks,” Harry snapped.

“It’s a pickle,” Ron said, “Maybe find a teacher he can trust? Hagrid?”

“Maybe,” Harry said, “But telling Hagrid to grope the first year—not happening.”

“So, instead, you’re the one doing the groping,” Ron said.

“I know,” Harry said, “I don’t want to, but I have to so he’ll talk, be able to do stuff.”

“Is it the groping?” Ron asked.

“It might be the orgasms, that’s what I thought the first time,” Harry said, “He was able to fly when he was having them.”

“Maybe find him a vibrator?” Ron asked.

“Maybe,” Ron said.

“He’s stopped talking!” Hermione shouted.

Harry opened the door, returned to the bed. He sat down, next to Ash, worked the erection, until Ash smiled.

“Thank you,” Ash said.

“We’ll just…the bed,” Ron said, walking back to his four poster bed. Ron laid down there.

Harry, however, felt a bit irritated as his cock was still hard, it wanted to finish the job, but Hermione was also retreating to the bed. Harry moved up on his bed, laid down. Ash moved up, laid next to Harry. Ash curled up on his side, back toward Harry, and pulled on Harry’s arm. Harry rolled over, legs partially bent. Ash moved until Harry’s hard erection was just beneath Ash’s crotch, running along between both of Ash’s legs, bent at the hips; while the buttocks were against Harry’s stomach.

“You’re a first year,” Harry said, as he felt the vibrator still buzzing up his arse.

“So?” Ash said as the lights went out, “Feel better like this.”

Ash stayed curled on his side as the covers went over both him and Harry. Harry felt the fingers touch the hard erection, brought the dick to meet the small dick, Ash’s testicles lightly pressed against Harry’s shaft. Both pairs of fingers teased the foreskin, teased into Harry’s glans. Quickly, as the fingers touched the slit, Harry felt the pressure build rapidly and release, against the fingers, the hands holding his cock. Harry’s sticky mess clung to the fingers, the hands of Ash.

“Eww,” Ash said, “Your’s right?”

“Sorry,” Harry said.

“It’s fine,” Ash said, “I trust you.”

Harry still felt awkward, being in bed with a first year, but the day had been awkward, ever since his hands planted themselves in the puddles of blood. Even with a vibrator still up his butt, Harry longed for Gia; however, his freshly drained testicles urged him to sleep.

* * *

“That was—enlightening,” the Keeper said as he sat at the table.

“It was fun,” the Seeker said, popping the top to a Firewhiskey, “They seemed—astonished their lives had just come to an end. It dosn’t change, does it?”

“Your actions will be effective,” the Keeper said, “It’ll certainly keep that Headmaster preoccupied for some while.”

“We can ask Snape,” the Seeker said.

“I do not trust him,” the Keeper said, “No, he’s useful to send disinformation to the Headmaster. Who is this Gia Prescott in relation to Potter?”

“Potter’s no good girlfriend,” the Seeker said, “Can you believe she’s a Muggle?”

“Muggle born is common—” the Keeper said.

“Not muggle born, but a dirty Muggle beast,” the Seeker said, “Something must be done to stop the contamination.”

“Are you certain?” the Keeper said, “She was at Hogwarts.”

“Why a filth would appreciate charred ruins is beyond me,” the Seeker said, “Potter brings her around every so often, perhaps she keeps her in the closet?”

“We’ll have to do something about this,” the Keeper said before turning to the third man, “How about you, Beater?”

“Today was indeed, fun,” the Beater said, “Count me in for another chance. In the meanwhile, the creatures are mating, it’s working.”

“Breeding is successful?” the Keeper asked.

“Taking a bit longer than anticipated,” the Beater said, “I think I’ve got the hang of it.”

“Potter won’t know what hit him,” the Seeker said, “I’ll plan the next…adventure.”

“Whatever you’re planning, layoff the fatalities,” the Keeper said.

“Death is effective,” the Seeker said.

“Did I mention that your action today was _messy_?” the Keeper said, “Fortunately the investigator can be…persuaded. However, too many deaths and we can’t keep Potter out of Azkaban.”

“He deserves to rot in there,” the Seeker said.

“At the appropriate time, not before,” the Keeper said, “I’d rather watch the bastard squirm.”


	28. Missing

Ron found himself bound by chains to a chair, a chair with raised benches surrounding him. Seated, as the chief of the Wizengamot with a ridiculous white wig, Harry stared down upon the red haired boy.

“The prosecutor may incriminate the guilty,” Harry said.

“Associating with muggles, Harry Potter, mudbloods, and blood traitors,” Hermione said, her robes billowing, “Ronald Bilius Weasley stands guilty of murder and betraying his friends.”

“Guilty as charged,” Harry sneered.

Ron shuddered as he woke Sunday morning, again, though, this time, the candles had been lit, it was time to begin waking, despite it being dark, windy, and raining outside the windows. Hermione was still leaning against his chest, her breasts saddled against his skin, her swollen eyes buried into his shoulder, she had cried herself to sleep.

Sob!

Hermione whimpered, her eyes still closed, but tears flowing. Ron wondered if her nightmares were as terrible as his had been, he smelled the sweat on her, figured they were. Ron’s right hand worked the middle of her back. Her hand traced his nipples, felt down the stomach, her thumb stopped to feel his belly button. Fingers went through the pubic hair, felt the bollocks, before holding onto his stiffening dick, she felt the shoulder, the glans, as his erection became hard, and her finger rested on the slit at the end of it. A door opened.

Cackle! Ha–Ha–Ha!

Laughter, the cackles, woke Hermione. Hermione quickly laid across Ron with her bare arse in his face and opened the curtains; Seamus Finnigan was there, pointed as he laughed. Hermione glanced to her right, and she tumbled out.

“Wha—what happened?” Hermione stammered.

“I’m guessing another _accident_ , right?” Seamus Finnigan said, “Can you bring that stuff down? We need wood for the fireplace.” He left the dormitory.

Ron climbed out, helped Hermione to her feet as he stood. His eyes fixated onto the pile of charred wood, timbers, where Harry’s four poster should have been, the trunk was intact at the foot of it.

“How? What? Where?” Ron stammered.

Hermione shrugged.

“Aren’t you the least bit—?” Ron exclaimed.

“It’s just too much,” Hermione said, as she shook her head.

“Hey, hey,” Ron said, as he pulled her to him, he held her and her nipples pushed into his chest, “I’m here.”

“Explain yourselves,” Professor McGonagall asked as she came in, her eyes focused on the pile of burnt timbers with badly singed white feathers littered across the floor.

Ron shrugged.

“We don’t know,” Hermione said, “Was like that when I woke up.”

“And where is Mr. Potter now?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“Dunno.” Ron walked over, touched the Firebolt. “His Firebolt’s here, and we did see him go to sleep on his bed. Obviously, with his Portkey—”

“Still on the Headmaster’s desk, along with your wands and your broom,” Professor McGonagall said.

“I want my personal journal back!” Ron said.

“I’m sorry, but everything on your persons at the time of the arrest is considered evidence,” Professor McGonagall said, “I will see they do not hold onto it any longer than necessary, but I do not know for how long that will be.”

“Then where’s Harry?” Hermione asked, returning the topic back to the destroyed bed.

“I must report on this,” Professor McGonagall said, “Remain here.”

Professor McGonagall left the dormitory, the door closed with the sound of it being locked. Ron’s stomach growled.

“She could’ve at least brought breakfast,” Ron said.

“How can you think of food?!” Hermione stammered.

“With a growling stomach that hasn’t been fed since yesterday morning?” Ron mocked, “Must be because Harry’s missing—”

Hermione shoved Ron, toppled him over. She ran for the shower.

“Hermione!” Ron shouted.

“Go away!” Hermione retorted.

Ron went to Harry’s trunk, opened it, and removed the Marauder’s Map; it was still active, it showed the people and places of Hogwarts. A flash of lightning, the storm outside picked up, made Ron grateful that he was in a large stone castle, rather than outside, even if he was accused of murder.

“Somebody forgot to clear this!” Ron shouted.

“What?!” Hermione replied.

Ron, however, took his time, studied it.

“Find me Harry Potter,” Ron said to the map.

The map briefly blanked, before returning. Ron’s finger moved the map drawing, and he peered over the main facets of the building, including the many corners, nooks, and crannies of the castle, examined each and every name. Ron finished studying, returned the map back into Harry’s trunk, turned around, and went for the showers.

“I told you—go away!” Hermione snapped.

She was underneath the shower head, the hot water poured down. Ron watched the beads of water chase around her breasts, roll through her personal forest to pour from her clitoris.

“I checked Harry’s map,” Ron said as he stepped beneath the shower head.

“Bright idea, genius,” Hermione said, “Well?”

“I couldn’t find him,” Ron said, as he reached for the soap, “Either he’s not at Hogwarts or he’s dead.” A burst of citrus filled the air.

“Don’t you dare suggest that!” Hermione retorted, her eyes flashed, her finger wagged at Ron.

“Face the facts!” Ron said, “He’s always had enemies, enemies that’d kill him given half a chance—we’ve known it for ages, and he’s dodged death before. As much as I’d like to think otherwise, we best prepare ourselves for the chance somebody could have succeeded.”

“I will _not_ entertain that,” Hermione said.

An announcement came to their ears, of Professor McGonagall speaking.

“All students are to return to their dormitories immediately. All members of staff, please report to the teachers’ lounge.”

“I wonder what that’s for?” Ron said, sarcastically.

“Go figure it out!” Hermione snapped.

“Let’s just relax,” Ron said, “We’re not going to help by fighting.”

Hermione sighed.

“Sorry about that,” Hermione said.

“Like this is easy,” Ron said, “Lemme…”

He massaged Hermione’s shoulders, she began to relax. Ron leaned over, kissed on her neck.

“Thank you,” Hermione said.

Ron turned off the water, grabbed a towel, his erection returned as he dried her. They left the shower. Ron lifted her, sat her butt on his study desk. His hands worked her breasts, before his hard shaft began to push into her.

“Trying,” Hermione said.

“Is it helping?” Ron asked.

“A bit,” Hermione said.

Ron began to drill, his hardness repeated its motion, in and out, as he pushed as he knew she preferred it, his balls repeatedly hit her skin, the sensation that drove his cock to consider the matter. A tense up, the desire came, a couple of false spasms before the pressure began to build up. Ron felt the spasms come back, the tension, he held his hardness in her, a final thought to release.

“Has Mr. Potter returned?” Professor McGonagall asked, as she returned.

Faster than glass shattering, Ron pulled out, his impending orgasm quenched, stopped. Ron faced Professor McGonagall. Hermione got off the desk.

“No,” Ron replied.

“Is something—did you find something out?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“No,” Ron replied, “Just speculated a bit too much, got carried away.”

“Your presence is required in the Headmaster’s office,” Professor McGonagall said, “Come along.”

Ron and Hermione followed Professor McGonagall down the stairs. Hermione glanced at Ron’s swinging hard erection, the testicles jostling underneath as he walked.

Ron, however, acknowledged to himself what he was suspecting for weeks, that Harry’s influence had altered their sense of modesty. Whether it’s traveling across Europe, at Hogwarts, or in front of Hermione’s parents, there was no shame to be had, so long as Ron refused its admittance.

“So, why is everyone here?” Hermione asked as they came down into the crowded room.

Other students parted to make for a wide berth; they left Gryffindor Tower.

“All students are confined to their houses until Mr. Potter can be accounted for and a head count completed,” Professor McGonagall said, “These matters are stressing Professor Dumbledore greatly.”

“Should we have ignored those screams?” Ron asked.

“Do not get me wrong,” Professor McGonagall said, “A true Gryffindor would not let others suffer while they have the power to do something about it. Albus and myself believe you and your intentions, which were honorable. Unfortunately, you had the misfortune of being accused because you did respond, albeit a bit hasty if you tripped over those you were trying to save. On the other hand, Minister Fallerschain seems to require more persuasion to accept the credibility of your actions and statements.”

“Was there nobody else who could corroborate—?” Hermione asked.

“The shop keeper perished along with the victims,” Professor McGonagall said, “We haven’t found any witnesses willing to step forward.”

“That bites,” Ron said.

They came to the Stone Gargoyle on the second floor.

“Jelly babies,” Professor McGonagall said.

Ron and Hermione stepped onto the ascending staircase, went into the Headmaster’s office. Professor Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, his untwinkling eyes focused upon Ron and Hermione standing naked in front of it. Professor Dumbledore waited until Ron’s hard cock surrendered and softened.

“Can you elaborate on … the whereabouts of Mr. Potter?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

Hermione shook her head.

“No, we do not know,” Ron said, “A certain piece of parchment revealed nothing, so if he is at Hogwarts, he’s dead.”

“Disconcerting notion—” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Hopefully wrong,” Ron said, “Without a broomstick, he didn’t fly—”

“Good,” Minister Fallerschain said as he entered the office with a loud slam of the doors, he was in his sky blue suit and flanked by two Aurors, “Two out of three—I specifically requested Potter.”

“Whose whereabouts are … being searched for … by the entire staff,” Professor Dumbledore said, “All precautions—”

“Dragon shit!” Minister Fallerschain exclaimed, “I specifically wanted to take them into custody, for both their safety and ours, and now I find you stalling. Well, make lemonade from lemons. So, while you find your misplaced Harry Potter, I will question these—”

Ron’s stomach growled, once, twice, and again as it woke the snoozing paintings. Fawkes joined Professor Dumbledore in looking at Ron.

“When did you last eat?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“Yesterday morning,” Hermione said, “Both of us.”

“I have a search to attend to.” Dumbledore waved his wand, a plate of sandwiches and a pitcher of pumpkin juice appeared on the small table by the three armchairs. “I expect full cooperation … from both of you … with Mr. Fallerschain’s questions, … after which, you are to … return to Gryffindor Tower. … Due to the seriousness of … the pending charges, … you are not to … assist in the ongoing … search for Mr. Potter. … Am I understood?”

Ron swallowed hard. “Yes.”

Hermione nodded.

“Good.” Professor Dumbledore stood slowly, used the cane for balance. The tap of his cane accented his slow gait until he left the office. Ron reached for a sandwich.

“Just what do you think you’re doing—?!” Minister Fallerschain stammered.

“Eating,” Ron said, the sandwich poised before his mouth.

“Only when I say you can.” Minister Fallerschain drew his wand, the sandwich left Ron’s hands and flew back to the plate. His left hand drew a vial from his breast pocket. “You will consume this.”

Ron and Hermione took drops from the vial, while the sandwiches and juice sat there, to remain virtually untouched.

Minister Fallerschain’s eyes fixated on Ron’s soft todger, hanging loose from the red pubic hair, waited until it began to dribble. His eyes shifted to Hermione’s carpet, where a glint of liquid was followed by a shower dripping from the hairy folds of her skin.

“You _like_ watching us piss?” Ron asked.

“I thought Severus’ method mad,” Minister Fallerschain said, “I now see the usefulness of it, the potion is working.”

Ron shook his dick, let a bit of the remaining droplets fly.

“Sit!” the Minister commanded.

Ron sat, adjusted his balls to dangle over the front edge of the soft leather armchair. Hermione sat on the next one. The Minister brought out his Quick Quotes Quill and set it onto a roll of parchment.

“I’m sorry if I was a big harsh yesterday,” Minister Fallerschain said, “Clearly, Potter’s the ringleader, organized everything, so you just followed him like the obedient pawns that you are. So, I may be persuaded to be more lenient, if you cooperate. So, lets, once again, go over Potter’s murder plans.”

“We did not murder anybody,” Ron stated.

“Did Potter inform you of his murder plans before or after you learned of a visit to Hogsmeade?” the Minister asked.

“Harry did not have murder plans,” Hermione said.

“You, Weasley,” the Minister pointed at Ron as he spoke, “Based on your file, I’d expect Potter kept you in the dark, as you’re not exactly the brightest. But you—” the Minister pointed to Hermione “—I’m surprised Potter didn’t let you in on it. If he had, well, you might’ve devised a better escape.”

“Harry had only one plan,” Hermione said, “Show Gia around Hogsmeade and bang.”

“How can you deny what goes on in Potter’s mind?” Minister Fallerschain said, “He is not here to speak for himself. Where is he?”

“I do not know,” Hermione said.

“I do not know,” Ron said.

“Impossible!” the Minister exclaimed, “You’re his conspirators, what was the getaway plan?”

“None,” Ron replied, “There was no conspiracy.”

“Hogwash, and you know it!” the Minister snapped, “Now, lets go over your history Weasley.”

Minister for Magic, Victor Fallerschain, kept up his questioning for hours, focused his sights on Ron and Hermione, both still very much naked. Ron and Hermione kept their focus on the Minister. None of them noticed as Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall entered the office. Professor McGonagall held the top of the cane, assisting the Headmaster to remain standing. Professor Snape entered, he too, stayed quiet.

“You claim to be dating?” the Minister demanded of Ron.

“Yes!” Ron snapped.

“That your parents would permit such a union in a Pureblood family?” the Minister Fallerschain, “The potion is obviously faulty to permit such falsehoods.”

“It’s true!” Ron said, as he stood, “I can _prove_ it!”

“Really?” the Minister asked.

“Yes, right now,” Ron said, “Hermione?”

Ron’s hands moved Hermione to stand up. He pushed for her to bend forward, hands against the chair. Ron tapped his loose dick against the slit of her vagina, and he rubbed the clitoris. Ron turned his hips, showed his stiffening cock to the Minister and retracted the foreskin to show the deep pink glans.

“We do this all the time,” Hermione said, “Normally make him work for it, but you’re pressed for time.”

Ron pushed his dick inward, it slid as he drilled. Again, his cock was relieved to be performing as his loose balls tapped lightly against her skin with each thrust. Ron pulled out, turned to show his hard cock to the Minister.

“There,” Ron said, tapping his fulcrum. Quickly, Ron felt the spasms, everybody watched as Ron’s dick spilled the sticky white, and he ejaculated for them.

“I did not need to witness this,” Professor Snape said, dryly.

The Minister jumped while Ron’s stomach growled, very loud.

“Torture by starvation … or compulsory sex … is against numerous … laws and statutes,” Professor Dumbledore said, “And doing so to … children—they are underage.”

“Said he could get more reliable information this way,” Ron said, feeling more eager to bait the man, “He is the Minister for Magic!”

“Damn right I am!” Minister Fallerschain said, “I can conduct my interrogation in any manner—”

“Pardon my intrusion.” Professor Dumbledore sat at his desk, picked up a quill, and started to write on a piece of parchment. “Please continue, … excellent material … for The Daily Prophet .“

“Eat!” Minister Fallerschain barked at Ron. He turned toward the Headmaster.

Professor McGonagall waved her wand, a couple of fried turkey legs were added to the plate. Ron immediately grabbed one of the drumsticks, sank his teeth into it.

“It has been clear since the start that you intend to sabotage this investigation,” Minister Fallerschain said, “Clearly the standards of discipline at Hogwarts are in dire need of review. Good Day!” He bolted for the door. Professor Snape followed the Minister, got out in time as the Minister slammed the door as hard as he could before they left.

Ron stood there, ate the turkey in front of the two teachers, not caring that his freshly ejaculated dick still had a long white strand hanging from it for all of them to see.

“We have conducted a thorough search for Mr. Potter,” Professor McGonagall said, “All ideas and efforts have been fruitless.”

“May I have my Portkey?” Ron asked.

“Did you fail to … understand the seriousness?” Professor Dumbledore ask.

“It’d be the first place I’d look for Harry,” Ron replied.

“I will consider it,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“In the meanwhile, we will continue to search for clues into yesterday’s massacre,” Professor McGonagall said, “While his theory of your guilt is unsatisfactory, we have been unable to uncover any proof in your favor either.”

“I can spare you … Azkaban,” Professor Dumbledore said, “But only for a short while.”

“It’d be best if you considered your defense,” Professor McGonagall said, “We’ll grant you limited access to the library.”

“Owl Madam Pince … for needed books,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Can we trust you to go straight for your dormitory?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“Yes,” Ron said.

Ron and Hermione left the office.

“We’re charged with murder!” Hermione said, “And you’re demanding your wand—”

“Where else should we look?” Ron said

“Hogwarts,” Hermione said.

Ron shook his head as they entered Gryffindor Tower, starkers.

“Bloody hell, get out!” Seamus Finnigan shouted, pointed to the door.

“FUCK OFF!” Ron shouted.

Ron and Hermione went up the stairs. Seamus Finnigan followed.

“I told you—” Seamus Finnigan said as he entered the dormitory.

“You have _zero_ authority!” Ron exclaimed, finger pointed at Seamus, “We’re **confined** to Gryffindor tower, so if you don’t want to see us, buzz off!”

“Open a window,” Seamus Finnigan said before he bolted into a run, shoved Ron against a closed window, the storm still raging outside, Ron’s bare buttocks pressed against the glass, “I’ll help you out!”

“He’d break his neck!” Hermione snapped.

“Exactly,” Seamus Finnigan said, “You’re unwanted.”

“Does the word _framed_ enter your noggin?” Ron belted.

“Another lie,” Seamus Finnigan said, “One lie after another, and you think we’d believe you?”

“Harry’s bed is gone,” Hermione said.

Ron glanced at where there was an empty space, no bed next to the trunk.

“Good, hope they don’t have to replace it,” Seamus Finnigan said.

“You arsehole!” Ron said, as he shoved Seamus Finnigan.

Ron’s biceps flexed, his feet against the wall aided his push, as he propelled Seamus Finnigan across the room, until Seamus Finnigan was on the floor next to his own four poster bed. Seamus Finnigan glared upward, Ron’s soft cock and balls nearly blocked the view to Ron’s face, the billowing red pubic hair doubled for a goatee.

“Get bent,” Seamus Finnigan said.

Ron, however, quickly gripped his soft penis, rapidly retracted his foreskin, and peed. His golden jet zigzagged across Seamus Finnigan’s T–shirt before he had a chance to move.

“Disgusting,” Seamus Finnigan said.

“Go!” Ron snapped, pointed to the door, “Or fall out the window if you wish.”

“This ain’t over,” Seamus Finnigan said as he left.

“My, my,” Professor Lupin said as he entered, “You need allies Ron, not enemies.”

“Tell _them_ that,” Ron said, “They won’t listen.”

“They’re frustrated,” Hermione said, “Can’t blame them.”

“Everybody is responsible for how they perceive and respond to the world,” Professor Lupin said, “You know that.”

“Of course,” Hermione said, “I’m frustrated too.”

“Hogwarts is a big place, surrounded by an even bigger forest,” Professor Lupin said, “If deliberately concealed in a good location, one could be forever lost.”

“That map,” Hermione said, “How would a dead person show up on it?”

“That depends, most likely,” Professor Lupin said, “Ghosts show up.”

“Of course,” Hermione said, “If he were dead, without a ghost, would his body show up?”

“I do not know,” Professor Lupin said, “Nor am I about to find out, I trust.”

“We speculated,” Ron said, “After we saw the bed.”

“The remains of Harry’s bed have naturally been searched,” Professor Lupin said, “Apart from the fact it was destroyed, nothing else of significance was found on it.”

“Ron’s got an alternate theory,” Hermione said.

“It’s not a theory,” Ron said, “Unless he’s dead, I know exactly where Harry’d go.”

* * *

Earlier that morning….

James Potter, a foot taller than Harry, stood in a empty white hall, black was enveloping the white. Lily Potter stood besides James, both shielding Harry from the menacing snake approaching.

“Stand aside!” the snake shouted.

“Not Harry, not Harry!” Lily pleaded.

“Take him and run!” James commanded.

Lily fell back, her figure looming over the sixteen year old Harry squirming on the floor, his hand clenched over his scar.

“Avada Kedavra!” the snake lunged, sunk its teeth into the neck of James Potter, its tail wrapped around Lily and squeezed. Bones shattered as Lily gasped her last breaths. A curse then flew from the fangs of the snake and struck Harry’s forehead. Rebounding, the green curse hit the snake.

“It’s not over, not yet!” the snake promised.

With green flame, the snake engulfed in flame over the bodies of James and Lily Potter. Their ash sprinkled down, but wind blew them away. Harry leaned over James Potter and shook.

“Dad!” Harry yelled, “Dad!”

Tears flowed down Harry’s cheeks and hit the body. Slowly, the hair changed to red, the face became freckled. Laying down, below Harry, was now Ronald Weasley.

“Ron?” Harry asked.

Ron smiled.

Harry watched as Lily split into two and changed into a lifeless Hermione. He—

In the sleepy commuter town of Noigate, south of London, in the middle class neighborhood along Oak St, where detached houses stood alone, the blinds of the upper back bedroom were not closed, nor the window itself. Beside that wide side window, one of two for that bedroom, was a perch on top of the shelving, with white feathers of the owl that was out at the moment. Covers strewn to the side and the world brought sunlight into the upper floor room, onto the bare buttocks and arse of the starkers sixteen year old boy who had his face buried into the bosom of a similarly undressed teenage girl, the sweating boy was face down at an angle on the bed.

Gia awoke to his family jewels entrusted to the palm of her hand, his arm around her hips, his moist breaths hitting her skin, and the sweat off his forehead was trickling down the crack of her bosom. Gia’s free hand reached over and quickly slapped his buttocks, felt his eyelashes move as his eyelids opened.

“Weren’t you, like, grounded?” she asked.

He turned his head, stared at the dresser on the other side of the bed. “I’m not complaining.”

She right hand started rubbing his left ear lobe, he sighed.

“I certainly went to sleep there,” he said, “Woke up here and I’m not going back.”

“Well, I’ve got an idea,” Gia said as she slipped out of position.

“Anything that doesn’t involve being accused of murder,” Harry said.

“It’s not that,” Gia said, she pulled at Harry’s hand.

“No adults either,” Harry said.

“Kristen’s on the beat, Snuffles is chasing birds, I think,” Gia said, “Richard’s at the airport and Kurt took Ant to church.”

“Ant, to church?” Harry asked.

“Maybe they’re hoping she finds inspiration,” Gia replied.

Harry crawled out of bed, glanced down. On the floor was Snuffles’ collar; Harry recognized the Hogwarts pin, likely an emergency Portkey, but he had no patience for, for _them_. Harry grabbed the broom leaning back against the wall, used it to send the collar underneath the bed and out of reach; it slid across the hardwood floor until it settled on a crumpled, dirty, set of Harry’s school clothes.

“Where are we going?” Harry asked as they left her bedroom.

“Mind me leaving it as a surprise?” Gia asked.

His loose todger swung as Harry went down the stairs.

“I am interested,” Harry said.

Harry turned and pressed her against the wall, he leaned in. His hands pressed on her bare breasts hanging out, his dick stiffened as he kissed her.

“Not that easy, Mister,” Gia said.

Harry moved back, let her lead them out of 26 Oak St into warm and sunny morning. His testicles hung loosely in the soft scrotum beneath his hard erection and swung with every step into his thighs, a sensation that helped keep the grin on his face.

“A surprise, I get it,” Harry said, “You didn’t even grab your purse and I don’t have a wallet.”

“Don’t need them,” Gia said, “Alright, just keep us…secluded on the train, we’ll just have to risk it. I figured you weren’t going to fly us there.”

“Can’t,” Harry said, “It’s at … school, which I’d rather not think about. It’s fucking annoying! Grand Minister Dick accused us for trying to sort it out!”

Gia wrapped her arm around Harry.

“Thank you for sleep walking,” Gia said.

“Way too far to do that,” Harry said, “It’s in Scotland.”

“However far it really is, great call,” Gia said.

“Suppose I could do it—if I had the Portkey,” Harry said, “I could use that in my sleep—but Dumbledore took it away.”

They made it to the station.

“How soon til the next one?” Harry asked.

“Five minutes,” Gia replied.

“Five minute challenge,” Harry said, “We can certainly do it in under five.”

Harry ignored the other teenagers on the platform, instead, brought his hard cock to her, the shadow darkened her vagina as he touched her clitoris.

“Not minutes, hours,” Gia said as she nudged it back, “It’s not a speed contest.”

Gia held off his hard cock off as she leaned in, kissed.

“Make it last all day,” Gia said.

“Challenge,” Harry said.

Screech!

Wheels braked as the train entered the station.

“See?” Gia said, “Sometimes it actually is on time.”

Harry twisted the handle, opened the door, and they got onto the train. It was an older carriage, the aisle that was a bit crooked, however, there was the triple wide seat that was right in front, and empty. Gia laid on it, Harry went on top of her. A train inspector came down the aisle as Harry plunged into her, unabashed. However, the ticket inspector shook his head as Harry’s pubic hair brushed against her; instead went to the new passengers right behind them.

“Tickets,” the ticket inspector asked those passengers, verified, before he moved further.

“There’s something about _you_ ,” Gia said.

“I’m not complaining,” Harry said as he pulled up.

“Too fast,” Gia said, “Just hold it there.”

“Alright,” Harry said, as he laid on her, his hard cock loitered in her pussy for others to see.

“It’s a short trip,” Gia said, “Besides, I’ve got an idea.”

“You have nice ideas,” Harry said.

“I get them from Tracy,” Gia said, “Apparently Nathan had some really dirty ideas when she was dating him. I spent hours on the phone with her yesterday until she had to see Roger, because you know, it was stressful to say the least.”

“Got the grand prize accusation because we were first to the scene,” Harry said.

“I know it’s unfair, but we can have some fun,” Gia said, “But her idea, you hold out, you don’t finish. Given your … _abilities_ , I think you can make it work.”

“Wasn’t planning on using them,” Harry said.

“Then why’d that inspector walk right by?” Gia said, “You can’t tell me that wasn’t somebody else’s problem, can you? It’s exactly what I’ve come to expect.”

“I wasn’t—” Harry started.

“You are, and don’t stop it,” Gia said, her fingers felt his pubic hair between them, “I had the hunch, so I figured we didn’t need the tickets, because of you, so keep it up.”

Harry snickered.

“You’re fun to be around,” Gia said, “Sorry, I got really upset last night too.”

“I figured as much,” Harry replied.

“Sit up,” Gia said.

“Can I just keep this here?” Harry flexed his hips, let his cock slide in and out, once.

“A lesson,” Gia said, “But we need your stiffy to be outside of me.”

Harry pulled out, sat forward, his balls hung over the edge of the seat, the stiffness jutting out. Gia moved her legs, sat next to him. Gia reached, touched his glans, brought her finger to his slit, pulled out a bit of clear, viscous, liquid.

“See this?” Gia asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“It’s your pre–ejaculatory fluid,” Gia said, “A precursor, that says you’re sexually aroused, which obviously, you are.”

“We’re naked!” Harry quipped.

“According to Tracy, if we do this right—” Gia ran her finger around the edge of Harry’s glans “—yes.” Harry’s slit began to dribble, more of the clear liquid oozed out. “She was able to keep Nathan at about fifteen minutes of this, I think you can do it all day, if you wanted to.”

“You want this?” Harry asked.

“ _You_ want this,” Gia said, “Means you’re as stimulated as you can be without a full orgasm—until the end of the day, maybe when we get back home?”

“Suppose so,” Harry said.

“Tracy suggested it, thought we’d try it,” Gia said, “I need the orgasms too, but if you do a proper one, it doesn’t last last long. You’ve pissed all day before, but I’d like something different, get it?”

“Yeah,” Harry said.

Gia kept tracing and tickling his glans, Harry’s dick kept dribbling this liquid out, for several stops, before Gia glanced at the reader board as the brakes came on and slowed the train down.

Screech!

“That’d be for us,” Gia said.

Gia stood. Harry stood, still dribbling, and they went for the door as the train stopped at the platform.

“This is certainly different,” Harry said.

Harry, once again, felt the pang of apprehension, a sensation he felt each time he tried something different, something that was supposed to be private, but he did publicly, as they came up with new ideas. However, he had become accustomed to it, and was able to sequester the feeling, fast. With each one, Harry would take a quick survey of the eyes, and in this case, knew that people did watch as his hard dick dribbled the clear liquid, the liquid that clung in a long strand to the ground.

“We might catch some of my school chums here,” Gia said, “I want them to be jealous.”

They walked across the platform, left the station.

Harry realized his dick had picked up on her desire, it was still dribbling. He did wonder if there was a spell, or a potion, for him to keep an orgasm going for the entire day—there had to be, if it were possible. He had read The Romantic Wizard , seen some of the love potions in Most Potente Potions , and knew that the Wizarding folks were just as perverted, just as curious, just as rabid about love and sex as Muggles were, even if the Wizarding population tried to pander themselves off as being more conservative and pretending to be outraged. Perhaps that made his kind search more for the spells, incantations that he’d seen.

Gia pointed to the park ahead, Neptune’s Waterpark and Amusement Center .

“This was your idea?” Harry asked.

Gia studied the bottle green eyes lighting up, eyes wide, studying the park.

“Have you ever been to a waterpark?” Gia asked.

“No,” Harry said, grin wide. Harry felt the spasms start up, the pressure build, until he dredged up a thought of Professor Snape, and it stopped, the clear liquid resumed to ooze from his slit. “I could imagine the Dursleys brought Dudley on one of the many times I was left in the care of Mrs. Figg. We need tickets, right?”

“Not today,” Gia said, “It’s the end of the season, maybe it’s a condition to their license to operate, but it’s free today.”

Harry kissed her and they went in.

“And so tickets are definitely somebody else’s problem,” Harry said.

Gia chuckled. They entered the waterpark, which was full of people, mostly younger ones. Proper swimsuits were the general attire, ranging from bikinis to board shorts to speedos; however, some boys had resorted to their underwear, the wet fabric showed contours better than nearly anything else, except for Harry’s being starkers.

“Try this?” Gia asked, pointed to the sign for log boats.

“Sure,” Harry said.

They joined the queue. Another boy, tall, perhaps fourteen or fifteen, stood behind them, with white briefs, briefs that had clearly already been in a pool as they were wet, the cloth nearly translucent, and a bit of brown pubic hair could be discerned; this boy began to blush as he saw Gia and Harry, standing starkers.

“What?” Harry asked, his harder–than–usual nail swung with the turn to look at the boy.

“Nothing—” the boy muttered, the eyes tried to shift away.

Harry decided to play this up.

“Look at her,” Harry said, pointed to Gia.

Gia turned around, the boy blushed even further.

“I’d be offended if you don’t look,” Harry said, “See how beautiful she is?”

The boy shook his head as the bulge of his briefs began to press against the cloth and move; his circumcised penis began to stiffen, form a tent pole in the fabric. Quickly, the boy brought his hands to shield it.

“Watch as I show you how much I appreciate it,” Harry said.

Harry pulled Gia close, threaded his hard dick into her.

“Careful,” Gia said, “No _accidents_.”

“I think I can manage,” Harry replied.

“I want to trust you enough that there will be no _accident_ ,” Gia said, “Don’t want to find you’ve already spent yourself, understood?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “Got it.”

Harry and Gia stepped carefully as the queue moved a few feet; Harry began to drill.

“Just remember to withdraw when you feel it,” Gia said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry said.

“Not going to finish?” the boy asked.

“We want to enjoy it for the whole day,” Gia said, “So, it’s got to be—”

“Understood,” the boy said.

Harry worked his cock, plied it into her, until her muscles relaxed, fast. Harry pulled out, caught her, and put her butt onto the hand railing.

“Keep it up,” Gia said to Harry.

“Next!” the lifeguard at the platform shouted at them.

Gia and Harry stepped up, the lifeguard waved to the boy too. The lifeguard directed Gia into the back seat of the log boat, while directed Harry to sit in the front, with the other boy next to him.

“Keep your hands inside the boat at all times!” the lifeguard said.

Clickety ratchet click!

Slowly, the boat went up the incline; water flowed past them in the elevated waterway.

“You keep going and going,” the boy said, eyes on the tip of Harry’s cock, the cock that was still dribbling, “Yet you didn’t finish the job!”

“The _job_ is to keep her happy,” Harry said, “I’m doing as she wants, and I’m happy to do it. She wants to see this—” he tapped the slit “—and so I do it.”

“And so you let it all hang out—literally!” the boy said.

“These—” Harry tugged on the elastic of the boy’s white briefs “—are the worst invention ever, it’s determined to shorten your stiffy!”

“I can’t,” the boy said.

“I _love_ hanging out with my girlfriend,” Harry said, “She loves seeing it—betchya half the girls here would like to see you too.”

Quickly, the boat came to the top. With a split second left to go, the boy pushed the front of his briefs down, underneath the testicles, to let the hard erection soak in the sun as the boat began to drop.

Harry screamed, not used to this. Only Gia, behind him, convinced him to stay in the boat. Sure, Harry had dropped from his broom before, but this was vastly different as he was not in control. His heart raced, having to trust the boat in this waterway. Left, right, hard bank, up, down, the log boat moved fast, until they came to the end, the boat began a barrel roll near the end, and dumped them out into the large pool, one that had a number of slides coming into it too.

“Now you’ve got a choice,” Harry said to the boy with his cock still hanging out, “Raise or drop the underwear. I could tell you what the girls want, but you already know that. Any that make cruel fun of it, aren’t the ones you want anyways.”

Harry grabbed Gia, waded out of the pool.

“A convert?” Gia asked.

“Maybe,” Harry said. He glanced back, saw the boy removing his underwear. “I think so.”

“I think the food court’s free today too,” Gia said.

“They’ll lose money,” Harry said.

“Maybe it’s a charity day?” Gia said, “Donations?”

“My wallet’s—I think it’s at school too,” Harry said.

They came to the food court.

“Do you want to order?” Gia asked.

“You know what you want,” Harry said.

“Stay here,” Gia said.

Harry sat on top of a table. He glanced at a couple of passing teenage girls, they stopped, watched as he curled his hand around his hard cock, it was dribbling. Both girls were in two piece bikinis, the tops were well trimmed trimmed so a bit of the breasts showed. Harry returned his eyes to Gia, saw her hands shaking her own bare boobs at the man behind the counter. Gia carried the tray over to Harry, set it on the table.

“Turns out the food’s not free,” Gia said, “However, the bloke accepted payment.” Gia’s hands shook her boobs at Harry. “So, it’s on the house.”

“You just—” Harry started.

“We’re starkers anyways,” Gia said, “So, I just took advantage of it, here. My pussy’s a bit waterlogged, eat.”

Gia held the takeaway paper tray of chicken strips in front of her breasts. She walked closer to him. Harry moved back on the table, until his bollocks drug up over the edge, rested on the warm metal. Gia crouched, as she got up onto the table, feet to either side of Harry, and moved closer. She sat in his lap, his hardness against her crotch, and she moved each of her breasts to rest with the nipple against his collar bone. Harry leaned back onto the table, with only his calf muscles and feet still hanging over the edge. Gia moved down a bit, until her blue eyes were staring at his.

“Gotta do this the hard way?” Gia asked.

Gia pried Harry’s mouth a bit open, she pushed a chicken strip in, and she latched down, until the chicken strip was in both of their mouths. Her lips on his, she touched her tongue to his, lured his tongue to feel her teeth, when she began to slowly bite down. She pushed his tongue back out before she finished the bite, pulled back, and chewed as he watched. She swallowed.

“I’m going to watch you eat,” Gia said.

Harry snorted, coughed, before Gia’s fingers felt his jaw, he began to move it. Harry chewed as she watched him, he swallowed. She worked another piece between his lips, into his mouth, he latched on, waited until she brought one to her mouth. Harry mimicked her, chewed as she chewed, swallowed as she swallowed. She brought the straw to the soda to Harry’s lips, he sucked.

“I need to eat too,” Gia said. She rolled off, sat up, crosslegged, on the table. “You, keep eating, it’s good for me, it’s what I want you to do.”

Harry brought his feet up to the edge of the table, his knees in the air, and spread a bit. He felt the sunshine bask into his exposed anus, while Gia brought a thin, long, chip to hang above his mouth. Harry sighed, opened his mouth, let her slip it in, and he chewed on it. As he ate, Gia touched his foreskin, teased, until a spasm started, she relaxed it, and touched the slit as the clear liquid began to slip back out.

“And I thought I was the overdresser,” said a brunette, with lush hair, as she approached.

Harry quickly caught the lime green bikini bottom before the topless brunette came closer, along with a blond haired bloke, about their age, with a single tight pair of jockey shorts, underwear that showed the contours of the bulge beneath, a wallet held against the hip by the waistband.

“Tracy,” Gia said, “Thanks for the idea.”

“I was surprised you’d show up,” Tracy said, “You seemed certain he’d not be here—yes, I do remember you coming to school last spring, though a bit more dressed.”

“Harry’s still with me,” Gia said, “I mean, aren’t these—” she loosely held the testicles resting in the pronounced pouch between Harry’s legs, the hard erection separated them from the black pubic hair “—gorgeous?”

“Large, maybe too large if he’s got leakage,” Tracy said, her eyes on Harry’s scrotum that he made no effort to conceal.

“You mentioned what you did with Nate,” Gia said, “He agreed to try it.”

“At a family waterpark?” Tracy said, “Well, despite what you might think, it’s not considered family friendly to be creating a family. Oh, this is Roger, if you’ve forgotten.”

“Enough names went by me that day,” Harry said.

“He’s certainly the better man,” Roger said.

“Keep the fun up,” Tracy said, “See ya tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Gia said.

“Bye,” Roger said.

Tracy and Roger went over to the food carts.

“You do have gorgeous balls,” Gia said, as she patted Harry’s, “Just saying.”

“Thanks,” Harry replied.

Gia rubbed his testicles, and Harry felt the tension, the tension that had persisted since the previous day, dissipate. Harry relaxed, really relaxed, noticing that they had inadvertently became a role model, as a handful of others were starkers, most with underwear or swimsuits in hand.

“Feeling better?” Gia asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“Let’s get some more in,” Gia said.

“Alright,” Harry said.

They got up, went for water slide after slide, ride after ride, until they came to the kiddie water fountain, spreading water out via oversized fiberglass mushrooms.

“Sunscreen,” a mother said to her young daughter as she began to apply the white liquid from the tube.

“Blimey!” Harry exclaimed to Gia, “Did we—?”

“Don’t think so,” Gia said, “Some tanning lotion would be better.”

“We’re British, we don’t tan well,” Harry said, “I’m not covered up, are you?”

Gia shook her head.

“What do you want to do about it?” Gia asked.

“Nothing we can do,” Harry said, “But also means my todger’s about to get fried too, mind if we just…um…now? You know, before it’s painful.”

“Suppose we could,” Gia said, “You’ve been teasing all day.”

“Lets not argue,” Harry said, “Um…any ideas?”

“You’re the one with the dick,” Gia said.

Harry moved her to be in front of him. He paid no attention to the young boys nearby who stopped and watched. Instead, Harry lowered his hips, as she bent forward, and he threaded his hard cock into her. He leaned a bit forward, held the breasts, and began to drill.

“You’re doing this for real?” asked the brown haired boy from earlier, as he stopped.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “I love her and I don’t mind if you watch it.”

The brown haired boy blushed a bit, his hands covered the growing flesh as his underwear was nowhere to be found.

“We’re okay with this,” Gia replied.

The other young boys stayed still, watched. Tracy and Roger stopped nearby, joined in the forming crowd, a crowd that left a circle around as Harry kept banging, sliding in and out. Harry kept massaging Gia’s breasts, waited until he heard her breath deep. Harry moved faster, pummeled, and held it in for a moment. A catcall as Harry pulled out, his dick now dripped white, and applause. Harry bowed, stumbled, and the audience dispersed. Harry’s cock remained partially stiff as Gia started to walk him.

“Bold,” Tracy said as she and Roger accompanied Harry and Gia.

“No shame,” Harry said.

“Obviously,” Roger said

“Where are we headed?” Harry asked Gia.

“The pool,” Gia said, “You’re always sleepy afterwards, so I figured a nap would help.”

“Do not,” Harry protested.

“I do,” Roger said.

“You’ve started a trend,” Tracy said as they passed two naked couples.

“I like my balls dangling just the way they are,” Harry said, “Gia likes them too.”

“You can’t talk me into that,” Roger said.

“I thought the same thing,” Harry said, “Try it.”

“No, no,” Roger said.

“Some people have the balls, some don’t,” Tracy said, “Later.”

Roger and Tracy took off, while Gia sat down on a reclining lounge chair by the pool.

“Here,” Gia said.

Harry sat between her legs. Gia put her arms around Harry, leaned back. She pulled his soft todger up into his pubic hair, and held the testicles. Harry did not rest the temptation under the warm sun, and he fell to sleep.

* * *

Ron stood starkers in front of Professor Dumbledore’s desk, the man sat behind it, while the Minister for Magic had his head in the fireplace.

“I don’t give a rats arse—!” the Minister exclaimed.

“He is not happy,” Ron said.

“Neither am I,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“FINE!” the Minister snapped as he pulled his head out. The green flame vanished. In his sky blue suit, Minister Fallerschain turned to face them.

“I’m ready to go to Azkaban,” Ron stated. He was glad he made Hermione stay behind in the dormitory because he didn’t want her to hear him say those words.

“That will not be happening, at least not today,” Minister Fallerschain said, “Otterswick is a decent man, most of the time, but he’s thick enough to believe the case isn’t solid when we have plenty of eyewitnesses! So all charges have been suspended!”

“As Minister you can certainly press them,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“It’s political suicide to ignore his recommendations,” Minister Fallerschain said, “Be on notice that the investigation is continuing. Once the evidence is sufficient of your guilt, the charges will be reinstated and the trial before the entire Wizengamot will commence, understood?”

“Yes,” Ron said.

“Same is true for your conspirators too,” the Minister said, “I have to go and face the wrath of The Daily Prophet .“

Both Aurors accompanied Minister Fallerschain out of the office.

“Does this mean what I think it does?” Ron asked.

Professor Dumbledore took a moment to study Ron. Ron hadn’t yet dressed, unsure if that had been permitted, nor did he care. Instead, Ron stood there, broad wide shoulders, the naval that led a line of red hair down to the pubic, his thick todger hanging freely in front of the cold testicles being held close.

“I will, of course, take a favorable outcome,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Though with twelve dead, there is no real favorable outcome. Still, I’d take his threat very seriously if I were you, because even if it weren’t the Dark Lord himself doing the killing, I would not be surprised if we were to find Voldemort somehow involved.”

“Of course,” Ron replied, “Can I have my wand and things back?”

“As charges have been withdrawn until further notice,” Professor Dumbledore said, “School rules no longer require that you be suspended, therefore, you, Miss. Granger, and Mr. Potter are all to be reinstated, should Harry be found.”

Professor Dumbledore waved his wand, a sack came over, and he put it onto the desk.

“Thank you, I’ll take Hermione…you know, celebrate, and see if Harry is there,” Ron said, “If I may say, you seem a bit chipper than usual.”

“Madam Pomfrey has found a new potion,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Good, then you’ll get better,” Ron said.

“Unfortunately not,” Professor Dumbledore said, “While there will be good and bad days ahead, the progression is irreversible.”

“Sorry,” Ron said.

“Do not fret,” Professor Dumbledore said, “There is only one group of people eager for death of another. I do not believe you belong to that group, right?”

“Of course not,” Ron said.

“Good luck,” Professor Dumbledore said.

Ron opened the sack, saw the contents, including his wand, the Portkey, his journal, and his Firebolt. Ron ignored the clothes within, decided to remain naked.

“Thank you,” Ron said.

Ron left the office, went down the stairs, to the second floor corridor. He climbed, made it to the fat lady.

“Murder,” Ron said to her.

The portrait swung open, he entered the common room.

“Lemme guess,” Seamus Finnigan said, as he stood, “You fucking—” he began to run.

Ron pulled the wand out of the sack, aimed it.

“Released,” Ron said, “Stay away from _me_.”

Ron went up the stairs, returned to his dormitory. Hermione was on his bed.

“Well?” Hermione asked as she got off.

“We can do it,” Ron said as he pulled out his Portkey. He let his growing flesh stiffen as he saw her naked beauty.

“Your ploy worked,” Hermione said.

“It wasn’t a ploy,” Ron said, “Hogwarts or Gia, what’d you think Harry would choose?”

“Hog—no, you’re right, Gia,” Hermione said, “We’ve been given permission to get him?”

“Charges were dropped,” Ron said.

“We’re cleared?!” Hermione asked.

“No, dropped until—” Ron said, “the Minister wants more evidence, until then, we’re okay. Ready?”

Ron grabbed Hermione, held her tight, his hard dick pressed against her skin as he activated the Portkey.

“Y—you didn’t warn—” Hermione said.

Ron shrugged as the Portkey pulled them away. 

“Thinking we’ll celebrate it too,” Ron said, “I know, people died, but the charges going away, for now.”

“I know exactly how you plan to celebrate,” Hermione said, glancing at the hard erection jutting as they moved with the Portkey.

“Is it a good idea?” Ron asked.

“Maybe,” Hermione said, “You have to work at it.”

“I’m up for the challenge,” Ron replied as they landed in Gia’s bedroom.

“At least his habits haven’t changed,” Hermione said as she cautiously stepped around clothing on the floor, none of it seemed to like the closet. “Is he hoping that an attacker would slip and fall?” She threw the mix of clothes into a heap in the closet, cleared a path to the door.

A black blur flew in through the door, Snuffles barged in, came to a fast halt, looked up at Ron and Hermione standing there. Snuffles backed up, his butt closed the door, before he pounced up onto the bookshelf next to the window, shuttered the blinds to seal off the evening coming in, jumped onto the bed, and transformed.

“Where’s Harry?!” Sirius demanded as he glared at the naked teenagers, “Moony sent an owl—nearly spooked those Muggles—not to mention, this—” he shoved The Daily Prophet at them. Ron and Hermione sat on the bed as they read.

Sunday 29 September 1996

The Daily Prophet

Potter Murders Twelve Hogsmeade Innocents

As stated in yesterday’s Evening Prophet , Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, and three accomplices viciously murdered twelve residents of Hogsmeade and injured six more including four schoolmates. Harry Potter and his three accomplices gathered around Kildary’s and Milton’s bookshop, waited until a sufficient number of targets were present, and satisfied his voracious appetite for blood by performing curse after curse, slaughtering to make the biggest and bloodiest massacre known within Hogsmeade in living memory. See pages 2 to 7 for extensive photographs depicting the aftermath.

Dumbledore Dismisses Potter’s Blame

Citing extreme pressure from Albus Dumbledore upon the investigation, the Minister for Magic felt compelled to drop the murder charges that were pending against the famous Boy–Who–Lived, rendering this teenager immune to prosecution for any of his contemptible actions. This sets a dangerous precedent that the Minster hopes to overturn through a more probing investigation that should unearth convincing evidence that even the likes of Albus Dumbledore cannot ignore, thereby bringing a rambunctious teenager under control.

Dragons Gets Snake of Guilty Wizard

Friday, Dalbert Clifynydd plead guilty in front of the Wizengamot to smuggling two freshly hatched dragons into the country while concealing them in his trousers last July.

Mediwizards and law enforcement were summoned by Crown Inspectors who witnessed the howling defendant’s trouser smoldering. Citing medical privacy, St. Mungo’s administrators have refused to disclose whether treatment to restore the defendant’s distinguishing features was successful or not.

After his six month sentence in Azkaban, Dalbert intends to petition to change his name to Del.

Letters to the Editor

Dear Editor,

I am astonished that Harry Potter would be even capable of harming another person in light of his heroic stance against You–Know–Who. I am certain that when the facts are fully known that Harry Potter will be vindicated.Doris Crockford.

Dear Editor

This is another example of how we are fanning the flames to a famously favored teenager with known mental issues. It astonishes me how charges could be dropped in the face of such overwhelming evidence.

(name withheld)

Dear Editor,

Ever since Rita Skeeter’s revelation to Harry Potter’s unbalanced mental state, I have been sincerely hoping that his troubles would not escalate. Unfortunately, the previous Ministry for Magic allowed him to continue to participate in the Triwizard Championship several years ago, a decision that cost poor Cedric Diggory his life. Once again, we find more victims of Potter’s mental problems and we should treat this as a cry by a troubled boy for help. Every wizard and witch should feel obligated to render any assistance needed to help Harry Potter accept his condition and the assistance we all offer him.

Susan Macmillan

“It should be obvious to even a bloke like Severus Snape that there are issues to be discussed,” Sirius said.

“And I was about to—” Ron said.

“We did not murder them,” Hermione said, “We—”

“I never doubted you or Harry,” Sirius said, “However, it’s clear that others do not see it the same way as you do.”

Hermione snorted.

Hermione toyed with Ron’s hard erection as they explained the past two days, taking over an hour to do so.

“This is serious,” Sirius said, “I’m going to lend a nose in the matter.”

Sirius summoned the dog collar from beneath the bed, tapped the Portkey, and vanished.

“We may as well look.” Ron said as he opened the door.

Hermione and Ron walked onto the landing.

“Whatcha doing?” Andy demanded, her eyes surveyed their nudity.

Andy was at her desk, scribbling onto a sheet of paper.

“We’re looking for Gia and Harry,” Ron said.

“Can’t help you—they’re not here!” Andy slammed her pencil down, it broke. She glared at them.

“It’s always Richard, Richard, Richard, and his friends, friends!” Andy complained, “I sure wish he’d stop rubbing it in.”

“Ron…” Hermione walked into Andy’s room.

Ron went down the stairs and into the living room. A figure loomed in the corridor to the kitchen.

“And you are—?” Kristen Osborn inquired.

“Um…” Ron stuttered.

The green front door opened, through which Harry and Gia walked in from the darkness of the night. Their skin, from head to toe, including her breasts and his cock, were red, very, very sunburned red.

“Didn’t you think of sunscreen?” Kristen asked.

“We are now,” Harry said.

“Harry,” Ron started.

Harry, though, fixed his eyes onto Ron’s. Kristen disappeared up the spiral stairs to the master bedroom. Ron gripped Harry’s shoulder.

“Oww!” Harry snapped, and pulled back.

“Sorry,” Ron apologized as he recoiled.

Kristen came back down, brought over a bottle of aloe.

“You may appreciate this,” Kristen said as she handed the bottle to Gia. Kristen went up the the stairs.

Harry’s eyes studied Ron’s for a moment.

“We’re heading back out,” Harry said to Gia, “I’ll do that stuff later.”

A sharply contrasted pair of teenage boys walked out the door; fair skinned Ron, and lobster Harry. Ron checked his pace to allow Harry to move slower. Harry grimaced a bit with each footstep as the bare foot came into contact with the pavement of Oak St. They turned into a park where Harry immediately tread on the grass and laid down

“Better, much better,” Harry said.

“Your bed was toast this morning,” Ron said as he sat a few feet away, “The teachers are searching for you. I guessed here.”

“You get the prize,” Harry said, “Shame I’m not going back.”

“What?!” Ron stammered.

Harry sat up, looked at Ron. “It’s clear I don’t belong there—everything, plus, waking up here—”

“Huh?” Ron arched his eyebrows. “You can’t just—”

“You’re sounding like Hermione.” Harry laid back down. “Can’t explain it, like I wanted to be here instead of there—why fight it? And, as a convicted murderer—”

“Not so,” Ron said, “Suspension is over, charges have been dropped—the Minister seems to need more time to gather evidence.”

“Should take forever since we didn’t do it,” Harry said.

“Agreed—if it’s fair,” Ron said, “Quite obvious the Minister is under tremendous pressure to nab some culprits and we’re convenient. Really, how’d you commute?”

“Dunno,” Harry said, “Maybe I just wanted to be here, really wanted to be here? At least according to your stupid rubbish about that sort of thing.”

“It can happen,” Ron said, “I mean, you making magic even if you’re not thinking about it. Still, come back, at least let them know you’re safe and sound.”

“Maybe,” Harry said, “Should’ve brought Gia along, she can really tickle—”

“Have her play with your scar,” Ron said.

“I’d go back and that’d just act up again,” Harry said.

“And just how did it act up?” demanded Hermione as she came up to them. She leaned over, punched Harry in the chest.

“Ow!!” Harry rolled over twice.

“Notice the **sunburn**!” Ron exclaimed, “Head to toe.”

“And nothing left out,” Hermione snapped.

“Strange way to greet a friend,” Ron said, “Harry—you said your scar—”

“Nothing to worry about,” Harry said, “Slight tingle back at Hogwarts—”

“Nothing?” Hermione said, “Realize—”

“So, you’re definitely suggesting that You–Know–Who had something to do with this?” Ron asked.

“Possible,” Hermione said, “It’s certainly not impossible. Especially if your scar is screaming in agony.”

“It wasn’t like that!” Harry snapped as he stood up, “It was light, a light tingle, like he laughed over the carnage or something. If you two are going to insist on fighting—I don’t want to see it!”

Harry walked off.

“You!” Hermione shook her finger at Ron. “You removed him—”

“He wanted to talk!” Ron snapped.

“So do I!” Hermione said, “You’d think after a day at the waterpark—his todger would have had enough excitement.”

“Can you stop biting?” Ron asked.

“First good use of your brains, ever,” Hermione said, “Your todger figured it out, that the tastes of her breasts would wet his appetite enough to hitchhike—”

“He didn’t hitchhike,” Ron said.

She arched her eyebrows.

“Look in the mirror!” Ron said, “Be nice—you thought we had lost him.”

“I…” Hermione said.

“A thousand pieces that bed was in,” Ron said, “You worried that even one of our housemates could’ve done it, that Harry was really gone?”

Ron moved in, hugged, held her tight. She studied the freckled face, the red eyebrows, underneath the mop of red hair. Her mouth opened for a moment, then closed.

“By the way,” Ron said, “Harry has no clue, none whatsoever, on how he made the trip, only that he did, and he wasn’t going to disagree with it. They truly love each other, it’s the best thing that’s ever happened for him.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said.

“I do care about you,” Ron said, “Always have, even if I’ve not been…perfect about it.”

Ron pulled Hermione into a tight hug, both remained there, and watched the constellations above.

* * *

Harry took a bit of time until he returned to 26 Oak St. He saw the open window, the shadows on the ceiling, and felt like doing things different.

“Hey!” Harry shouted at the window.

“There is the living room,” Gia said, as she came to the window, “With this thing called a door.”

Harry walked to the back corner of the back yard, started in a dash. As he passed the edge of the house, he jumped, went up. His fingers gripped the window ledge, he dangled.

“That’s the hard way,” Gia said.

“So?” Harry asked.

Git reached her hand out. Harry swung, gripped it, and pulled up; he climbed in through the window. Richard was standing there, while Jen was on the bed. Jen glanced at his beat red testicles.

“That is so going to hurt,” Jen said.

“Yeah,” Harry replied.

“Nice jump,” Richard said, “Well, I passed—”

“Passed what?” Harry asked.

“My pilot’s license!” Richard said, “It’s in the mail—managed the private pilot’s license!”

Harry shook his head. “Still don’t understand—”

“I can fly a plane!” Richard exclaimed.

“He hasn’t told a soul,” Jen said, counting on her fingers, “Unless you count him bragging to Mum, Dad, Ant, me, a fellow at the grocery, the chemist, that kid down the street, and a few others.”

“Let’s get you taken care of,” Gia said to Harry.

Gia pulled Harry into the bathroom.

“I could just go to the Hospital Wing,” Harry said.

“Going back?” Gia asked.

“Dunno,” Harry said.

“Tonight?” Gia asked.

“No,” Harry replied.

“Good,” Gia said, “Let’s get started.”

Gia escorted Harry into the bathtub. She uncapped the bottle, and began to smear it onto his forehead.

* * *

Monday morning, Ron activated his Portkey. Harry and Hermione held on, as it brought them back to Hogwarts, to the sixth year boys’ dormitory.

“Ow…ow,” Harry said, as he landed, “This fucking hurts.”

“You should’ve taken precautions,” Hermione said, as she also landed.

Harry went for the door.

“You need to dress, first,” Ron said.

“I’m seeing Madam Pomfrey,” Harry said, “Worry about that—later.”

“Dumbledore, first,” Hermione said.

“Alright, alright,” Harry grumbled.

While Ron and Hermione went for the shower, Harry left the dormitory.

“Who are you?” Seamus Finnigan asked as Harry went through the common room.

Harry, however, walked fast, out, deliberately, and carefully, wishing he had flown his Firebolt instead, though he then thought the butt might hurt even more. He made it to the Stone Gargoyle, went up the steps, entered the Headmaster’s office.

“I am pleased…” Professor Dumbledore’s twinkling blue eyes studied the figure before him, Harry with his deep, deep, red skin, from the toes to the forehead, including the deep red foreskin, before he focused on the bottle green eyes. The blue eyes stayed twinkling. “At least you have your mother’s eyes, so I can tell it’s you.”

“Yeah,” Harry said as he held his arms away from his body, “I was about to see Madam Pomfrey.”

“I can only imagine the discomfort if you’re voluntarily seeking her out, nor will I discourage it,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I am, understandably, curious as to how you traveled to get there.”

“I don’t know,” Harry said, “I went to bed, here, Saturday night; and woke up there. Ron thinks it’s accidental magic, maybe he’s right? Foul play certainly wouldn’t have left me there, of all places.”

“Foul play would not,” Professor Dumbledore said, “However, you are proclaiming what would be an interesting feat of accidental magic.”

“How ever it was done, I was not aware of it,” Harry said, “Can I go?”

“Seeing you here is more pleasant than the alternative that had been suggested,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Welcome back, and I’ll let you take care of that sunburn before we take care of the remaining business.”

“Thanks,” Harry said.

Harry turned, left the office.


	29. Sunburn

“Aw…AW!” Harry moaned as stinging sensation from the cool ice paste was pushed into his back by Madam Pomfrey; the smell of peppermint filled the air.

“What type of idiot uses Aloe?” Madam Pomfrey said, “Despite what those Muggles think, that’s the wrong stuff to use. You should’ve come straight to me after your deliberate injuries.”

“This wasn’t deliberate,” Harry said.

“Standing out in the sun until you roasted?” Madam Pomfrey said, “With a whole day of rain, sleet, and hail, only you could come up with an injury of sunburn.”

Harry smiled as he understood the absurdity of it, though Harry realized he’d have to be a bit more careful as it was rather easy to have different weather in southern England than the western part of Scotland. Still, despite burning, he considered yesterday a good day.

“You need better shorts,” Madam Pomfrey said, as she worked his buttocks, “Yours did nothing to stop this.”

Harry knew better than to divulge that he wore nothing, like he currently was wearing nothing. Still, he reasoned that Madam Pomfrey was likely smarter than that, so he best not to play her the fool.

“I’m not going to lodge a complaint,” Harry said, “Gia loved my attire.”

“I’ve never seen a sunburn so—thorough,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Harry wasn’t going to divulge it, though it’d be plainly obvious why there were no lines to his sunburn, with his butt, his cock and balls, all uniformly burned.

“On the table,” Madam Pomfrey said.

She waved the wand, the bed transfigured itself to a table at waist height. Harry stepped backward, pushed up, sat on the edge of the table, his scrotum, his balls hung over the edge.

“Ow…aw, the hands,” Harry said, before he realized his butt wasn’t hurting from sitting.

“You do your privates,” Madam Pomfrey said, “I really need an assistant.”

Harry reached into the jar, scooped out a bit of the whitish blue paste.

“Keep it thin, just a little bit,” Madam Pomfrey said as she worked his right foot.

Harry began by rubbing it on his penis, it wanted to stiffen, but the stinging sensation kept it soft.

“Ow…ow,” Harry muttered.

“A little pain is expected,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Perhaps it’ll teach you a lesson too.”

Harry began to rub his balls, the stinging sensation shot through him, his dick began to dribble a bit of yellow, peed.

“Sorry,” Harry muttered, “It…Ow!”

“Testicles are not meant to get sunburned,” Madam Pomfrey said, “I can only imagine the pain. Still, work what you can reach, it’d help.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, as he took another scoop. He worked his right thigh.

“Not sure who to feel sorry for,” Ron said as he entered the privacy screen, he was already dressed for school.

“Your concern is noted,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“Ron,” Hermione said as she shook her head.

“Don’t forget the inside of your dick,” Ron said, eyes on the paste covered genitals.

“Oh,” Harry said, he retracted his foreskin, dabbed a bit onto the glans.

“Be sure to cover every sunburned part of the skin,” Madam Pomfrey said, as she worked Harry’s calf muscles.

“If you haven’t come up with a cover story, I suggest you do,” Ron said, “Even those blokes know something’s up when you’re sporting a full body sunburn.”

“Any ideas?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, but unfortunately we don’t have any dragons here,” Ron said.

“I’ll have to tell Hagrid to work on that,” Harry said.

“Accident in the kitchen?” Hermione said, “I mean, your bed was a wreck, anything could’ve happened, before we found you in the oven.”

“I know a sunburn when I see it,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“You don’t have to believe it,” Harry said, “The others do, because I’d rather not tell them the truth.”

“Lies rarely help,” Madam Pomfrey said, “It’d be better to say nothing if the truth won’t do. You, of people, should understand the terror a lie can cause.”

“So this potion?” Hermione asked.

“Stops the burn sensation, accelerates the process,” Madam Pomfrey said, “In a few minutes, you’ll shower to remove it. The dead skin will start to peel sometime tomorrow. I’ll have a cream tomorrow that’ll help with that.”

“Think I’ll pass on that,” Harry said, “I can manage a bit of peel.”

“It’ll get over everything,” Madam Pomfrey said, “But there is no danger if you skip.”

“If it’s too much, I’ll see you,” Harry said.

“Suit yourself,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Harry lifted his right arm as Madam Pomfrey worked a bit into the armpit. His todger began to stiffen.

“How is it now?” Hermione asked.

“Not as—missed a spot,” Harry said, felt the burn in his tip.

Madam Pomfrey worked the left armpit. Hermione gently pulled his foreskin away from Harry’s hard erection, peered beneath.

“Yep,” Hermione said.

Hermione took a bit of the paste, dabbed it in, on the inner side of the foreskin.

“You did a good job getting it nice and even,” Hermione said, “Did you go for the rotisserie style?”

Harry felt the urge build up fast.

“Watch out!” he blurted.

Harry’s tip began to let out a surge of semen as his orgasm started, shot after shot.

“Can you believe that this was first marketed as an aphrodisiac?” Madam Pomfrey said, “They just didn’t realize the value of what they had, the best of the best burn ointments—there’s plenty of gold to be had there. Instead, sold it on the cheap, advertised as the perfect aid to a man in his declining abilities. Sure, their todger becomes extremely sensitive, goes off on a sneeze, but did they ever consider the possibility that people have kitchen accidents all the time if they lack a House–Elf? No!”

“Thanks for the warning,” Harry remarked.

“That won’t be the last time today,” Madam Pomfrey said, “I’ll send enough so—I presume your girlfriend is equally…well done?”

“Yes,” Harry said.

Madam Pomfrey finished rubbing his chest.

“Wait a minute and get into the shower, here,” Madam Pomfrey said, “I need to make sure there aren’t any more unwanted side effects.”

Harry walked over, into the the restroom, as Madam Pomfrey entered, and showered. Harry lathered up as she supervised, the water turned green as it dissolved the dried potion on his skin.

“That’s normal?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Go easy on your skin, it’s fragile.”

“I try to,” Harry remarked.

Harry finished rinsing, turned off the water, and grabbed a towel.

“Dab, lightly,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Best to air dry if you can.”

“Thank you,” Harry said as he left the shower.

“Is he ready?” Hermione asked, “He needs to get dressed—”

“Out of the question,” Madam Pomfrey said, “It’d be best if he stayed in the Hospital Wing, because he needs to let his skin heal, in the natural state.”

“I’ll just—may as well go to class,” Harry said, “No offense, I’d rather do something—I can be starkers.”

“I’ll send a note to your teachers,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“Thank you,” Harry said.

“How does it feel?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“Better,” Harry said. He was being honest; even though his skin still looked sunburnt, it no longer hurt.

“I was a bit relieved when you walked in the door,” Madam Pomfrey said, “At least they found you, unlike that other boy.”

“What other boy?” Harry asked.

“I’m not sure, some first year Gryffindor,” Madam Pomfrey said, “I try to be good with names, but after a while, students just blend together.”

Harry left the Hospital Wing; Ron and Hermione followed. As he walked the handful of paces, Harry realized what was meant by _sensitive_ ; every bump in the floor, every air molecule passed him by, and he could feel it. Harry entered Professor McGonagall’s office, she was there, sitting at the desk.

“I am certainly pleased—” Professor McGonagall started.

“Who is missing?” Harry demanded.

“This does not concern you,” Professor McGonagall said.

“Yes it does,” Harry said, “A student is missing … first year, Gryffindor, that isn’t by chance Ash? As in Ashland Hurley?”

“Mr. Hurley was not accounted for during the head count,” Professor McGonagall said, “Neither were you.”

“I understand you confined everybody to their dormitories for me, I’m found,” Harry said, “What about Ash?”

“What are you doing here Mr. Weasley and Miss. Granger,” Professor McGonagall said, as she tried to change the topic, “You are late for class.”

“Had to check up on Harry,” Ron said, “Make sure he was seeing Madam Pomfrey.”

“Mr. Potter is capable of tending to the Hospital Wing,” Professor McGonagall said.

“Fine for them, but what about Ash?” Harry said, “You’ve got a duty to him too.”

“It is the consensus of staff that Ash has voluntarily removed himself from Hogwarts,” the Professor said.

“You’re claiming he ran away, have you verified this?” Harry asked.

“He was clearly not adjusting to Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall said, “Albus was working the rules so we can withdraw his offer of admission, so his wand could be merely secured until he found a more suitable educational environment. If he reappears, he can petition for re–admission.”

“So, you’re not looking?” Harry asked.

“Rest assured, we are looking for him,” Professor McGonagall said.

“Yet, you’re sitting at your desk,” Harry stated.

“I have a school to run,” Professor McGonagall said, “Welfare of every student is important to me.”

“Help is always to be found at Hogwarts to those who ask for it,” Harry said, “Or so I was told, it ought to be Hogwarts will always give help to those who need it. Cancel my schedule, I’m finding him, _myself_.”

“Mr. Potter!” Professor McGonagall snapped.

“I confess he’s difficult, but he’s worth it,” Harry said, “I took him under my wing to help him, so I will return, with him.”

Harry spun around, went out the door. Ron and Hermione turned around.

“Get to class,” Harry said.

“We’re coming,” Ron said, “Figure you need the help.”

“Hermione?” Harry asked.

“I’m in too,” Hermione said.

“Lets start upstairs,” Harry said.

Harry went up the stairs, corridors, into Gryffindor Tower. He climbed the steps into the dormitory, went to his trunk, opened it.

“It’s not been wiped?” Harry asked as he grabbed the map.

“Dunno,” Ron said, “Proved useful yesterday when looking for you because…well, didn’t have my wand.”

“Clear it, always,” Harry said, scanning, “Find me Ashland Hurley.”

The map’s drawing panned to the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

“It was like that when I found Hermione out there,” Ron said.

“Lucky you found me,” Hermione said, “It’s a big place.”

“We’ll ask Hagrid,” Harry said, “He’ll help, he certainly knows that forest better than any of us.”

“And it’s his class we just missed,” Hermione said.

“Then it’d be good to apologize, hadn’t it?” Harry said, “Lets go.”

Harry took a step, spun, eyes landed on the Firebolt.

“Can’t carry it with your skin the way it is,” Ron said, “I’ll handle this.”

Ron affixed the strap, slung both of the Firebolts to his back. Hermione and Ron followed Harry out of the dormitory. They ran down the stairs, out of Gryffindor Tower, and down the corridors and steps, until they came to the Entrance Hall.

“Well, well,” Malfoy said, “Can’t even be bothered to dress or show up to class?”

The small contingent of their classmates stared at the naked Harry, sunburned partially aroused todger hung beneath the black pubic hair.

“You are….you’re _special_ ,” Harry said, “Unlike you, I’m not embarrassed by my cock—”

“You were just under the weather, I mean, murder is _soo_ taxing on you, am I right?” Malfoy said, “We all know the truth even with them fooling Minister Fallerschain. It’s against those UHP’s bylaws and their oath!” Malfoy raised his right hand. “We solemnly swear not to press charges against the famous Harry Potter and his maggots. By the way, you’ll pay for your insults.”

“They’ve already paid,” Finnigan said, “How else do you explain the Minister letting them go?”

“I didn’t pay,” Harry said.

“Forget it Potter,” Macmillan said, “We’re not blaming you, directly, because they wouldn’t want you to get your hands dirty after they so painstakingly washed the blood off.”

“A little Quidditch to take the mind off it, right Potter?” Malfoy asked.

Harry, though, thought about Ash, and continued as fast as he could stand the soreness on his feet as he went out the door into the cool weather. Though it was a light mist, Harry felt every single droplet on his sunburnt skin.

“Ignore them,” Hermione said.

“They’re right,” Harry said.

“Pardon?” Ron asked.

“The special treatment—they all see it,” Harry said, “Take yesterday, I go missing and it’s all hands on deck, spare no expense. But Ash, who’s an ordinary kid, they’re considering expelling him.”

“Not expulsion,” Hermione said, “Because then they’d have break his wand, more like a persuasion to go away.”

“What else do you call it then?” Harry said, “Everyone else sees that I get treated differently, suppose it can’t be helped, maybe that’s why they let me commute. Ash…he could’ve been ripped by the same thing that landed me in Noigate! He could be anywhere, and they’re giving it the same attitude as copper taking a theft report, filing it never to be seen again!”

Knock! Knock!

Harry pounded on the door. Hagrid opened it.

“Class was already held,” Hagrid said, “I can’t make exceptions to those who miss it, even fer yeh, even if yeh were dressed.”

“I was in the Hospital wing,” Harry said, “And I’m told this is best for my skin.”

“Oh,” Hagrid said, “Good to see yeh doing better, they said yeh was missing, rubbish.”

“I wasn’t the only student to go missing yesterday,” Harry said.

“Might’ve heard something,” Hagrid said, “They never said much to me about it.”

“I’ve got reason to believe Ash is in the forest,” Harry said, “Can you help?”

“Sure thing,” Hagrid said, “Fang!” Hagrid grabbed his crossbow. “Where he be headed?”

“Not sure,” Harry said, “Clue just said he was in the forest.”

“Lets find the Centaurs,” Hagrid said, “They might know.”

The four of them walked into the forest. Harry felt the leaves, the dirt beneath his feet; if he were Neville, he’d be able to do a census to the tree species, blindfolded.

“Same one who helped Harry many years ago?” Hermione asked.

“Firenze is one possibility,” Hagrid said, “Maybe the best choice, they worked up about something, not sure if they’ll help, to be honest.”

“Great,” Ron said.

“Never said it was great, Ron,” Hagrid said.

“It’s simply the best we have,” Harry said, “If we only know the forest, there’s a lot of places left to search.”

“Any more clues?” Hagrid asked.

“No, that was the only one,” Harry said, “Didn’t think if there were other things to check.”

Clop! Clop! Clop!

A centaur approached, the hooves came to a halt.

“Hello Bane,” Hagrid said.

“You brought more of your kind!” Bane exclaimed.

“Yes, because I had a question,” Harry said.

“We do not speak!” Bane stated.

“It’s important,” Harry sad, as he took two steps forward.

Harry bowed, not certain if that was the right move, but it’s worked with Hippogriffs.

“You are not dressed like the others,” Bane said.

“I am naked,” Harry said, “This is who I am.”

“I am listening,” Bane said.

“A missing boy, like I used to be,” Harry said, “About this tall—” Harry motioned with his hands, “Missing since either Saturday night or yesterday morning, and I have reason to believe he’s in the forest. Given his unusual talent at finding me, I think he’s in trouble.”

“Please Bane,” Hagrid said, “Have you or the others seen or heard anything? We’d be extremely grateful.”

“Please?” Harry asked Bane.

“A naked wizard, brave,” Bane said, “We don’t see that often, and naked wizards tend not to talk to us, such as those two at their forbidden water.”

Ron blushed.

“I am naked,” Harry reiterated, “And I’m asking to find my friend, the boy. He was naked, like me, the last time I saw him.”

Harry felt the rush of wind, realized just how sensitive his skin was, like he had stripped for the first time. His sunburnt dick began to swell, turned rock hard.

“We will consider your request, Harry Potter,” Bane said, “Wait here.”

Clop! Clop! Clop!

Bane rode away.

“So we wait,” Harry said.

“I put odds at two to one against them helping,” Hagrid said, “They are very worked up.”

“It’s not like I need an army,” Harry said, “Just information, we can manage, if we know where to look.”

Harry wasn’t certain if it was the hard erection giving him confidence or not. He certainly no longer cared about it showing, it had long since ceased to be private to him.

“Professor McGonagall seemed doubtful that a search was worthwhile,” Hermione said.

“Since when is a search for a missing student not worthwhile?” Harry said, “And don’t say it’s because of me.”

“Likely is,” Ron said, “We know you’d come looking for us, of course, and we’d go looking for you. But to them, the rest, look if they can, but life goes on.”

“All this talk about missing students,” Hagrid said, “I go looking if any are missing, count me in.”

“We know,” Harry said, “I knew I could rely on you.”

“Of course yeh can,” Hagrid said, “I pulled _yeh_ from your parent’s house after…still wrong to have to do.”

“Yeah, Thanks,” Harry said, “Maybe I was a bit harsh on McGonagall, she is trying to run the whole school.”

“Professor Dumbledore runs Hogwarts,” Hermione said.

“Watch, Hermione, watch!” Harry said.

“Does Hermione—” Ron started.

Clop! Clop! Clop! Clop! Clop! Clop!

Bane returned, along with one more Centaur.

“Hello Firenze,” Hagrid said.

“Harry Potter, we meet again,” Firenze said, “You had a request.”

“A boy,” Harry said, “Eleven and naked, with black hair and blue eyes. He would’ve been in the forest at most…a day and a half. Have you seen him?”

“You honor us, Harry Potter,” Firenze said,“A naked wizard is a trusting wizard, and more likely an honest one too.”

“Thank you,” Harry said.

“Your skin,” Bane said, “It tells a tale of joy and too much sunshine.”

“I had a nice time with my girlfriend,” Harry said, “I’m naked because of the treatment, leaves it hyperstimulated.” Harry absent–mindedly touched the tip of his foreskin, the tracing was enough for the spasms. “Oh—oh…”

A squirt, Harry’s dick began its orgasm, sending his semen flying out.

“To share intimate wizard behavior says a lot about you, Harry Potter,” Firenze said, “We can talk.”

“Thank you,” Harry said as he wondered how frequent his orgasms were going to be.

Bane whistled.

Clop! Clop! Clop!

A third one approached, a female Centauride, with unsaddled breasts hanging out.

“Hello Egyle,” Hagrid said.

“Hagrid,” Egyle said.

“Tell Harry Potter what you told me,” Firenze said.

“A boy, eleven with black hair and blue eyes, and naked like me,” Harry said.

“Magorian told me he saw something similar to what you described,” Egyle said, “In the webs, that’s all I know.”

“Thank you,” Harry said. Harry bowed.

“We may yet meet again, Harry Potter,” Firenze said, “I shall look forward to it.”

“Thank you,” Harry replied.

Clop! Clop! Clop! Clop! Clop! Clop! Clop! Clop! Clop!

Both Centaurs and the Centauride left.

“Where?” Hagrid asked.

“Aragog!” Harry said, in a flash of inspiration.

“Suppose we can ask,” Hagrid said.

Hagrid led them, along another path, Fang followed.

“Should’ve just said to follow the spiders!” Ron quipped at Harry.

“Why does this not feel like a good idea?” Hermione asked.

“We know _exactly_ what those spiders would do,” Harry said, “Even if Hagrid doesn’t.”

They went deeper into the forest, spiders began to accumulate.

“Your fault if anything happens,” Ron whispered to Harry.

“Aragog!” Hagrid announced.

Ron trembled a bit as they walked down into the hollow.

“Hagrid, is that you?” asked the deep voice.

Harry, though, glanced upward, pointed as his eyes fixed on the webbed bundle suspended in midair.

“Aragog!” Hagrid said, “Sorry for not visiting sooner, things keep coming up.”

“Broom!” Harry whispered to Ron.

Ron removed Harry’s Firebolt, handed it over.

“What is the concern?” Aragog asked.

Harry mounted his Firebolt, rose upward.

“A kid’s missing at the school,” Hagrid said, “My friend, Harry, says he might have wandered into the forest.”

Harry came to the webbed bundle, suspended two hundred feet in the air, not quite near the top. He recognized the black hair, the blue eyes , the fair skin of Ash, eyes that blinked.

“Ron!” Harry shouted as a spider started to climb down the long, white strand, of webbing that was holding the sack up.

Ron mounted his Firebolt, rose up.

“It’s him!” Ron said, “Best hurry.”

“I’ll hold, you cut,” Harry said.

Harry moved his arms underneath, held the bundle, while Ron took out his wand.

Snip! Snip!

Spiders dropped, fast, as the webbing gave way. Harry began to fall, as Ash was suddenly in his arms.

“Hold on,” Harry said to Ash.

Ash reached, put his arms around Harry’s neck, held on tight. Harry’s free right hand gripped the broom, leveled it near the ground.

“Reckless!” Hermione said.

“It has been a nice year!” Hagrid said to Aragog.

“They’re still at it,” Ron said.

“Get Hermione,” Harry said as Ash started to sort himself on the broom handle.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ron said.

Ash faced Harry as he put his legs over the handle, moved closer until the tip of Harry’s hard cock pressed right into the groin, rested right on Ash’s growing shaft. Ash moved his arms, held around Harry’s waist, put his head against Harry’s chest.

“Still don’t like these things,” Hermione said.

“Get on,” Harry quipped as he glanced upward. Harry tried to ignore the extra sensation that he was feeling of Ash on him, but his skin enjoyed the warmth of the contact that Ash provided.

More spiders were descending, seemingly upset that they had just raided the larder.

“Hurry,” Ron said.

“How are your lessons going?” Aragog asked.

“Splendid!” Hagrid said.

“HAGRID!” Harry shouted, “We’ve got what we need, we can leave!”

“I’ll stay!” Hagrid said, “Aragog and I haven’t talked in ages. Can you bring back some tea?”

“Another day!” Harry said.

“Suit yourself,” Hagrid said.

Harry and Ron pulled their brooms, upward, did a couple fast U–turns, dove underneath a partially fallen moss covered log.

“You’re irresponsible fliers!” Hermione snapped.

“Maybe ask the spiders to stay out of the way,” Ron said.

“Thank you,” Ash whispered to Harry.

Despite the small size, Harry felt Ash’s erection sway a bit with the motion, it brushed against Harry’s urethrae. Before Harry could even think of summoning the mental image of Snape, his dick decided matters and began to spasm. Surge after sticky surge, Harry ejaculated, the tip still against Ash, spread down to follow Ash’s smooth shaft.

“Sorry,” Harry said.

“It’s okay,” Ash said.

Harry continued to ejaculate. He wondered about the potion, he made a note to himself to find the supplier, as it’d be good in bed.

“So what do we tell Dumbledore?” Ron said, “That Hagrid’s pet almost ate a student?”

“It’s a whole colony,” Hermione said, “Not just the one.”

They flew over the trees, felt the mist against their skin. Harry circled Hagrid’s Hut, landed.

“He left the door open,” Harry said, “And get Ash cleaned up.”

Ash got off, held Harry’s hand as they went up the steps. Harry grabbed a rag, soaked it in water, and wiped the semen from Ash. It had coated the penis, the testicles.

“You did that?” Hermione asked.

“That burn ointment was an aphrodisiac,” Harry said, “My cock is hypersensitive, it squirts on just about anything.”

“I said it was okay,” Ash whispered.

“Thank you,” Harry said, “It’s fine, I know, and I’m glad you’re okay with it. But we’re already got enough bad ideas spreading around, I don’t want to give them another.”

Harry put the rag to the side.

“Let go,” Harry said.

Harry held Ash’s hand, they walked out of Hagrid’s Hut. Harry used his right hand to shut the door, and hold his Firebolt. They returned to the castle, went up to the Hospital Wing, entered.

“What is the matter Potter?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“Ash here,” Harry said, “Give him a quick check.”

Madam Pomfrey took out her wand, scanned Ash.

“Nothing wrong apart from needing a bit of food, like you,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Why?”

“Seeing the Headmaster,” Harry said.

“I do not understand what this is about,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“You were wonderful,” Harry said, “I’ll see you … sometime.”

Harry led the small contingent, to the second floor, to the Stone Gargoyle.

“You were the one complaining about special treatment,” Ron said.

“Ash needs it,” Harry said, “I can manage from here. Thank you, both. You two are definitely late for something.”

Ron and Hermione left. Harry escorted Ash onto the ascending steps. They entered the Headmaster’s office. It was empty.

“Cool,” Ash said as he glanced at the magical instruments on the wall.

Ash ran over, stood next to the empty perch of Fawkes, touched the ash. Ash put his hands on his bare buttocks, left handprints of ash on them.

“This is Professor Dumbledore’s office,” Harry said, “Since we did not call ahead, we have to wait.”

Harry walked over to the Sorting Hat, lifted it.

“Interesting bee in your bonnet,” the Sorting Hat said.

“That’s…” Ash muttered, stood next to Harry.

“The Sorting Hat that says I should be in Slytherin,” Harry said.

“I stand by my advice,” the Sorting Hat said.

“Lets see what it says about you,” Harry said, as he put the hat onto Ash.

“Perception that would be good in Ravenclaw,” the Sorting Hat said, “Shyness that would belong in Hufflepuff, but a thirst for sincerity and trust. In consideration of factors, in Gryffindor.”

“Ash talks to me,” Harry said, “And only me.”

“There is no impairment in Mr. Hurley, but he is particularly selective,” the Sorting Hat said, “He is skeptical of his fortune, expects it to be taken away. He was nearly as difficult to place as yourself.”

“Why Gryffindor?” Harry asked.

“His desire for courage and trust,” the Sorting Hat said, “He will speak to those he trusts, provided there is no malevolence in their heart. You, Potter, have none.”

“A trait I admire,” Professor Dumbledore said, standing at the door to the office, Professor McGonagall by his side.

Tap! Tap!

Professor Dumbledore moved over to his desk.

“You found him,” Professor McGonagall said, glancing at the starkers Ash standing there next to Harry.

“No thanks to you,” Harry snapped.

“I spent nearly two days researching the rules, the bylaws, laws, treaties, and covenants, to keep _you_ out of Azkaban,” Professor McGonagall said, “I would have expected you to be a bit more grateful.”

“It is disconcerting that a student did go missing and it was up to Harry to have to find him,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“I apologize, Albus,” Professor McGonagall said, “He was last seen Saturday afternoon, several students suggested he ran away.”

“He was with _me_ Professor,” Harry said, “He was in _my_ bed because he was scared. I let him stay when I went to sleep, so he likely got caught up in whatever sent me … south.”

“I told you to behave appropriately,” Professor McGonagall said, sternly.

“I don’t know what to do except, watch out for him!” Harry said, “Rather than guessing, I’m asking, and letting Ash show the initiative. If he feels the need to crawl into my bed, I’m not turning him away. If I’m naked, which I am if I’m sleeping, I’m not turning him away. If he needs to touch me, or needs me to touch him, I’m not turning him away. You asked me to adopt him, to be his big brother, and that’s exactly what I’m doing; he’s grown on me and I now love him, he’s now my kid brother.”

Professor Dumbledore’s blue eyes twinkled at both of the naked boys standing before him.

“Sorry if I sound irritated,” Harry said, “It’s just that I found him caught up by the spiders in the Forbidden Forest, they were going to turn him into a snack!”

“While I’m certainly happy that you’ve found Mr. Hurley, and you’ve turned him into a friend,” Professor McGonagall said, “There are still some marked improvements that Mr. Hurley will have to do—”

“You’re not going to win him over with that attitude!” Harry said, “And yes, you have to try to win him over. Do that, and there won’t be any more issues, nothing beyond the normal, anyways.”

“Minerva, please,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I appreciate the work you’re doing, it may be time to hire in somebody to assist you. In either case, please, return to your duties, I wish to talk to both Mr. Potter and Mr. Hurley, in private.”

“Certainly,” Professor McGonagall said as she left the office.

“Do forgive her,” Professor Dumbledore said, “She is truly overworked. I do what I can, but I’ve unfortunately had to delegate most of the day to day tasks, you understand.”

“I do,” Harry said.

“Please, have a seat,” Professor Dumbledore said.

Harry sat on the armchair as it approached. Ash sat in Harry’s lap. Harry’s erection returned, beneath Ash’s crotch, and began to ejaculate. Harry’s seed pooled, moved forward.

“Sorry, side effect to the burn ointment,” Harry said, “I now understand why it’s marketed as an aphrodisiac. Slightest touch sets it off, and off, and off.”

“I presume you’ll use a bit tonight with her, for purely medicinal reasons only,” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“As instructed,” Harry said.

“Ointment? Your sunburns?” Ash whispered to Harry.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “It’s why…it does feel good, though.”

“It’s okay,” Ash whispered.

“Your friend does not seem to mind,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Nope,” Harry said, as his cock fired off several more salvos of white semen from beneath Ash’s bollocks, “Right now, I don’t feel like contesting it.”

“You bear no ill–intent Potter,” the Sorting Hat said, “So long as that remains true, Hurley will remain loyal to you.”

Ash leaned back into Harry, slid a bit, and teased his own dick. Ash waited for a moment, tickled his balls, breathed deeply.

“You did that,” Harry said.

“With my assistance,” the Sorting Hat said.

“I do want to know what happened,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I understand you went to sleep Saturday.”

“Not much to tell,” Ash said, “Woke up in the forest, those gigantic—” he screamed for a moment.

Harry massaged Ash’s shoulders.

“I got caught,” Ash said, “It’s awkward trying to sleep hanging up in the air, upside down. Cold too.”

“When I heard this morning that he was missing, I checked the parchment,” Harry said, as he started to explain the search.

“You earned the trust and respect of the Centaurs, Harry,” Professor Dumbledore said, “The ease in which you can do it will serve you well.”

“But I’ve got…it’s frustrating,” Harry said, “Simply frustrating, to have it torn down.”

“The others simply sense what you already know,” Professor Dumbledore said, “They do not realize that because of your fame, you’re on the public stage from the moment you boarded that first Hogwarts Express. Certain burdens are on your shoulders that the ordinary student does not experience, I see the arrangement as a chance to give you a sense of normalcy.”

“Ron says the same thing,” Harry said.

“Mr. Weasley is a good friend too,” Professor Dumbledore said, “He’s vouched for your character at every opportunity. And, if Mr. Hurley were less shy, he would not be the person he is, however, he’d vouch too.”

Ash nodded.

“By the way, I found it equally disturbing that nobody actively searched for Mr. Hurley until you took it upon yourself,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I apologize for this oversight, which, fortunately turned out alright due to your efforts.”

“Thank you,” Harry said.

“Every student is important,” Professor Dumbledore said, “However, we occasionally need to be reminded of that.”

Professor Dumbledore winked as his twinkling eyes bore on Harry and Ash.

“Come on,” Harry said as he lifted the Sorting Hat from Ash’s head, “Lets go.”

Ash stood, Harry stood.

“Eww, bit of a mess,” Harry said, his eyes on the puddles of his semen on the seat of the armchair, dripping over the front. His softening cock was still dribbling, a long pendulum of white was descending to be chased down by another bead.

“As much as you might be eager to rejoin your classmates,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I suggest you wait until tomorrow. Madam Pomfrey could use an extra hand in the Hospital Wing.”

“If it’s the same, I’d rather go—you know,” Harry said, “Though I still need to get that potion—”

“I figured you might wish that,” Professor Dumbledore said, “However, seeing as your wand and Portkey are still here, it was a safe bet that you would be seeking them.”

“Thank you,” Harry said.

Harry walked over to the desk, picked up his Portkey, his wand, and the sack. Ash walked up to Harry, held his wrist.

“He does not want you to leave,” Professor Dumbledore said, “He also likes your attire.”

“Maybe it helps him?” Harry said, “He’s already been through this—it was an accident. However, he’s not going to tell anybody.”

Harry brought his wand to the Portkey, activated it. Ash held on.

* * *

“Mysterious boyfriend leaves you sunburned from head to toe,” said Tracy in Gia’s afternoon economics class, “Still, got its perks.” Tracy tried to tease Snuffles, laying on the floor, with a dog treat.

“Jerky, you feed him jerky,” Gia said, “The good stuff, because he can tell.”

Gia wanted the day to be over, this was the lightest cloth she had, but the burns still hurt, the soreness.

Slap!

“Cut that out!” Gia snapped at the blond haired Nate, his hand recoiled.

“I heard you had no lines to that,” Nate said.

“Every part of me,” Gia said, “No, you can’t look.”

Growl!

“Alright, alright,” Nate said to Snuffles, “Going.”

Gia knew Snuffles was good to have around, certainly the most intelligent person around, though she hadn’t yet managed to persuade him to feed her the answers during examinations.

RING!

Gia got up.

“I really need to inspect,” Nate said, “You know, in case it’s infected.”

“You wish—NO,” Gia said. She didn’t feel like telling this bloke to just keep an eye out on High Street, because that’s how Harry and her preferred to hang out.

“Your loss,” Nate retorted.

Gia left the portable classroom, turned, to see the sunburned face standing on the pavement separating Noigate Public School from Smeltings . She saw Harry, with his black pubic hair, sporting the hardest of erections, next to the boy from the previous week, Ash.

“Oh, matching sunburns,” Nate said, “Must be your boyfriend, but who’s the kid?”

“His kid brother—adopted,” Gia said, thinking as fast as she could, “They both like to hangout naked.”

“Doing a boyfriend is one thing,” Nate said, “But banging his kid brother?”

“The kid brother does not bang,” Gia said, “He’s not old enough—he’ll be handsome once he does grow out.”

Nate kept on going along the trail. Gia, however, came to a halt in front of Harry. Ash touched Harry’s hard cock, and Harry began to ejaculate, spreading semen onto her trousers.

“Side effect,” Harry said.

“Of what?” Gia stammered.

“Lets get home,” Harry said, “Got you a bit of the burn ointment too, my skin does not itch, nor should yours.”

Gia walked carefully, each step on pins and needles, the clothes bound, set off every inch of skin. Harry touched her shoulder, she recoiled.

“Sorry, it hurts like—” Gia said.

“I remember,” Harry said, “Spent a good hour this morning having the ointment put on. My skin’s still red—’ he showed the hand “—doesn’t hurt, it’ll start peeling tomorrow.”

“Great,” Gia said, like she was really looking forward to skin peeling, flaking all over the place, and giving her a dandruff problem.

“Sorry, left the…thing at home,” Harry said. Him and Ash walked with her.

“All the school nurse had was a spray,” Gia said, “It didn’t help.”

“I could carry you,” Harry said.

“Nice offer, I’ll pass,” Gia said, “This is bad enough.”

“Take off the shoes,” Harry remarked.

Gia stopped, pulled off her polished shoes. Harry held them as she walked in her socks. It was a bit more subdued.

“A bit better,” Gia remarked, “I’ll suffer through it.”

“I’ll be here,” Harry said.

“What’s his story today?” Gia asked.

“An incident at school,” Harry said.

“Not another charge!” Gia snapped.

“No, his rescue,” Harry said, “I figured it’d be alright for the night, he’ll go back in the morning, feeling more confident, secure.”

Gia wasn’t absolutely as sure about this as Harry was, however, she did trust him that it’d work out, like it always had.

They made it back to 26 Oak St. Harry escorted her up the stairs, to her bedroom.

“Where is this … ointment?” Gia asked.

“Bathroom,” Harry said, “Goes without saying, the entire sunburn needs it.”

Gia, though, was already going to strip. However, she did this carefully this time, each bit of her skin howled out in pain as she did. She wanted to scream, but also didn’t want to alarm Kristen if she were sleeping, or the boy. Harry swung his arms as he escorted her into the bathroom, into the bathtub.

“That messy?” Gia asked.

“This stuff, itself?” Harry asked as he picked up a jar, “Nah. It’s the mess _you_ make.”

“Uh–oh,” Gia said, she stood in the middle, as Harry got in behind her. She began to smell peppermint.

“You’ll feel a bit of stinging,” Harry warned.

“What?” Gia asked.

“Butt first so you can sit,” Harry said.

Gia felt the paste, cool, but stinging, the peppermint unable to mask the sensation.

“Ow, ow, ow!” Gia yelled, “What is this?”

“It’s Kirkburton’s Sensitivizing Ointment ,” Ash said, reading the label, “Apply to desired areas, wait five minutes, rinse off, and enjoy twenty four hours of bliss. Warning, do not use if pregnant or allergic. May contain nuts.”

“More nuts to come,” Harry said to Gia.

“He talked,” Gia said.

Harry turned to Ash.

“Yes, so what?” Ash asked.

Slam! Stomp! Stomp!

“The door!” Harry said, “Can you lock the door?”

Ash went, locked the bathroom door, before he stepped into the bathtub, in front of Gia. Ash surveyed her, eyes focused on the nipples.

“See why you like her,” Ash said, “Lovely tits.”

“You don’t go directly for those,” Harry said, “You gawk, make sure she sees you noticing. The more direct you are, the more off–putting it becomes! No, you wait until she’s taken with you enough that you can get away with it.”

“Speaking from experience?” Gia asked, before her back exploded in the stinging sensation; Harry was very fast with the paste.

“Give me some of that,” Ash said.

Harry held the jar out, Ash took some into his hands. Ash touched Gia’s right boob.

“Should’ve asked,” Harry said, “Sorry about that.”

Stinging kept going through her body, her bladder responded.

“So that’s how that works,” Ash said, his eyes on her vulva as she began to pee, the yellow stream came out. Ash’s right hand felt his penis, stiffened it. “Not as flexible, think I like it my way.”

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“Hey!” Richard shouted through the door.

“Quiet,” Harry said, to Ash as he drew the curtain.

Ash worked Gia’s stomach. Harry stepped out, went to the door, unlocked and opened it a crack.

“I was wondering—” Richard started.

“Look, Gia’s rather sensitive right now about her sunburn,” Harry said, “ _Very_ sensitive if you get my drift, maybe later?”

“Um, sure,” Richard said.

Harry closed and locked the door, returned to the bathtub. Harry brushed against her buttocks, she felt the difference, cooler, calmer, and she felt the paste still on her flesh.

“Keep it up,” Gia said to Harry.

“You keep doing the backside,” Ash said, “I’ll keep getting the front, so it’s done faster?”

“So long as you stay quiet,” Harry said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ash said.

Gia felt the smaller digits working around her vulva.

“Ow—ow—” Gia muttered.

“I screamed when it was my balls,” Harry said, “But it’s better, definitely better.”

“I think I figured that…” Gia felt the fingers on her clitoris, the pain exploded.

“Bit too much?” Ash asked.

Gia was pissing, again.

“I’ll do that part,” Harry said, as he carefully turned Gia around. She saw Harry’s face, with the jar of paste. He carefully worked her face. She felt the stinging, but he went a bit slower than before, so it was more manageable. Harry worked downward, getting every spot Ash had missed on the front, while Ash worked her legs. Harry plied open her labia, and it stung as he applied the paste.

“Ow…ow,” Gia said, her muscles unable to hold back, and she resumed peeing.

“Sorry,” Harry said, “Almost there.”

Pfffpt!

Ash’s fingers returned to her buttocks, into the crack, as her anus stung, unable to hold it back. Gia bent ever bit forward as she felt the slithering begin.

“Ew,” Ash exclaimed as she started to poop.

“Say nothing and leave it be,” Harry said to Ash.

“But—” Ash started.

“Leave it be,” Harry said, “Or, use toilet paper and pick it up.”

Ash did the later, dropped her logs into the toilet.

Plunk!

“You…” Gia started to say to Harry.

“You couldn’t help it, and that’s okay,” Harry said, “I just don’t get how this is supposed to help in bed if you first have to feel like you ran into a beehive.”

“For medicinal use only,” Ash said, reading the hastily added sticker on the back of the jar, “This jar has been reformulated for Healers, stinging nettles have been added to inhibit casual use.”

“I’ll see if I can get the regular stuff,” Harry said, “You’ll definitely feel it.”

Harry reached around, turned on the hot water. Gia felt the heat seeping in.

“Relax,” Harry said as she sat the water turned green.

Quickly, the potion washed away, and she felt every bit of water hitting her skin, flowed over. Harry cupped some of the water, worked her face. Her nipples went up, goosebumps that were not goosebumps, flared on her skin. Every hair folicle, including the ones that were shaved, lit up to let her know it still existed, each one stimulated her, made her feel alright. Harry ran the water over her vulva, brought a bit of water into the cavity, the touch that brought the sensuality, that she began to bear down. Wave after wave of ectasy made her very accepting of it, including Ash.

“Water,” Harry said to Ash, who turned it off.

Harry went through the towels, felt each one, brought it to Gia, and dabbed lightly.

“What’s wrong?” Ash asked.

“Nothing, far from it,” Gia said.

Harry finished drying her, handed the towel to Ash.

“I’ll check the landing,” Harry said, “Ash, be quick, very quick.”

Harry went, cracked opened the door, saw Richard’s door open, with him just inside.

“Hi,” Richard said, “Done yet?”

“Gia’s really, really, sensitive about her sunburn,” Harry said, “It’ll be just a moment.”

Harry closed Richard’s door, waved at Gia and Ash. They hurried into Gia’s bedroom. Harry opened the door.

“She thanks you,” Harry said.

“Sure, seemed awful, but not outrageous,” Richard said.

“You’ve got a girlfriend,” Harry said, “Sometimes…it’s bad, even if we don’t think so.”

“Yeah, understood,” Richard said.

Harry went into Gia’s bedroom.

“Alright, I’m a bit hungry,” Gia said, “Fix a sandwich platter? For three? Some crisps and something to drink too.” Gia wasn’t too hungry, but figured Harry needed something about now, and having him get the fixings meant he couldn’t object to the contents.

“Um, sure,” Harry said, “Stand right there, don’t move a muscle.”

Harry left the bedroom, closed the door. Gia stood there, in the room.

“Room service?” Ash asked as he pulled a blanket over him on the bed. Head propped up on his hands, he didn’t bother watching her face, instead, kept his blue eyes on her crotch, studied it. Ash was smiling as he studied her.

“Yes,” Gia said, “Got my reasons.”

“Been seeing Harry a long time?” Ash asked.

“Months,” Gia said.

“What do you like the most about him?” Ash asked.

“Hmmm…” Gia said, she hadn’t really been asked this before, “His heart, I know he loves me. Why do you hang out with us?”

“He’s cool,” Ash said, “And he’s a bedwetter.”

“You like that?” Gia asked.

“It’s admirable, but I don’t like getting peed on,” Ash said, “Still, he’s fifteen—”

“Sixteen,” Gia said.

“Even older, thought only kids wet the bed,” Ash said, “He does, and you still sleep with him.”

“Everybody has strengths and weaknesses,” Gia said, “I’ll take bedwetting over other problems.”

“Do you shave for him?” Ash asked.

“I’ve always liked it like this,” Gia said, “That Harry enjoys it is a bonus.”

Harry came into the bedroom, his erection was firm. With platter, a pitcher, and cups in his hands, he raised his foot and cleared off her desk chair. Harry put these down.

“I think I remember, this is your cli…clitoris?” Ash asked as his right finger touched her point.

An explosion of sensation within filled her up, every muscle responded as the spasms started up, the sensation of bearing down, as the orgasm swept through her. She stumbled backward, fell backward, as the sheets on her back only increased it. She breathed deep, the exhilaration left her eyes wide, she exhaled, a small golden shower sprayed upward.

“Sorry!” Ash said, grew quiet.

“Alright,” Gia managed to say.

“Do it again,” Harry said to Ash.

Ash hesitated.

“Doesn’t…have…to…” Gia said, “It’s…”

“You didn’t see the puddle I left in Dumbledore’s office,” Harry said, “What did you want to eat?”

“Honey, on—you choose,” Gia said.

“Oh,” Harry said, who seemed to understand, “Don’t really need it, but Ash, go ahead, try it again.”

Ash reached over, wiggled her clitoris. Gia felt the rust come back over her, to the point that neither Harry nor Ash could do anything wrong. Harry knelt at the edge, took the honey bottle, and began to drizzle it over the folds, the lace, and she felt every squiggle in the line, the heart raced as her orgasm continued.

“You’re putting honey, there?” Ash asked.

“Yep,” Harry said, “Helps make it more sensitive—not needed tonight, makes sure I get every bit, and we like it.”

“That’s why you do everything here, right?” Ash said, “You like it?”

“We experiment,” Harry said, “When you find your right girl, or witch, you’ll want to experiment too, figure out what works for you.”

Harry put the bottle aside, went onto the bed, straddled Gia. Gia saw Harry’s large testicles over her eyes, hanging loose. She reached up, held them.

“Aw…” Harry started.

“They’re _sensitive_ ,” Ash said.

“Yeah—it’s coming,” Harry said.

Gia quickly understood when the first pulse shot out of Harry’s dick. He kept surging, before his legs gave way and he collapsed onto her, his cock shooting between her breasts, while his crotch stayed supported on her arms. An explosion in her sensation, and she felt the orgasms going within her, as if Harry’s semen was aggravating them.

“He likes that,” Ash said, “You too.”

“What do you think?” Harry asked Ash. Harry arched his back, moved his head, and his tongue began to work at the honey.

“You’re having an orgasm, right now, aren’t you Gia?” Ash asked.

“Uh huh,” Gia said, as that was all her tongue could manage. It was more than an ordinary orgasm, it was a rainbow of variation. She thought she could feel the sperm swimming in the semen that was puddling between her breasts, as Harry’s dick was not stopping.

“She is,” Harry said, between licks.

She felt the rough surface of his tongue be gentle as it usually was, she felt every bump on the wet skin as he licked. Every inch, and Harry’s tongue slipped inward, wiggled. She felt the smaller fingers … bemused that Ash must’ve been helping out by stimulating her clitoris. It was rich, her orgasm, as his ongoing pour of semen was moving, coating further forward, trapped in her naval.

“Harry really, really, loves you,” Ash remarked.

Gia wasn’t certain what Harry’s plans were, but she didn’t really care. He had definitely taken an interest in helping this kid, Harry was certainly not afraid to show their sex life, and with the orgasm ricocheting through her, she wasn’t too concerned either. Harry’s balls kept resting on her, seeding the cock that was still draining. His hands on her thighs, his tongue that kept pushing even more into her. She was confident enough in Harry that she’d even consider the birth control optional if it weren’t for their schooling. In any case, Gia knew Harry was a keeper—with a shadow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, with this chapter, 200k by the end of the month of November, that was my NaNoWriMo goal. (I might've rushed that last smut scene...)


	30. Confidence

Harry pinched and pulled at his left arm as he ran Tuesday morning, swaths of skin started to come.

“You’re already peeling?” Richard stammered.

“Yep,” Harry said, “Was warned yesterday…nice not having to go longer.”

“What’d you use?” Richard asked.

“School Healer gave it to me,” Harry said, “Not complaining.”

“Stay away from Mum,” Richard said, “At least until late tomorrow, she might swallow that without magic.”

“It was a potion,” Harry said, “Yeah, magic.”

Harry’s red skin kept turning progressively paler and paler as he ran.

“Kinda looks like leprosy,” Richard said, “Loosing your skin.”

“Nah,” Harry said, glancing at his arm, “Bit tanner.”

Harry glanced down at his hard erection, the one swaying as he ran, it too was going pale.

“I take it you couldn’t give that potion to me if I ever needed it?” Richard asked.

“Planning on a sunburn?” Harry said, “The Healer stocked the Healer one, so it stung to apply.”

“Not so great,” Richard said.

“Better than a week of the pain,” Harry said, “Still, it had its positives.”

“That was your constant mess?” Richard asked.

“It didn’t feel bad at all,” Harry said, “Felt good. Not planning on a sunburn, still, worse things could be had.”

For this run, Harry held his bladder back, the loose skin on his glans meant it had to peel before he peed, but he didn’t want to hold Richard up to stop and peel his skin. They made it back to 26 Oak, entered. Harry went up into Gia’s bedroom.

Hoot!

Hedwig was there, package in its beak.

“So that’s what you were writing for last night,” Ash said.

“Wasn’t expecting it so fast,” Harry said as he took the package from Hedwig. He gave her a owl treat.

“You always run in the morning?” Ash asked.

“Good start to the day,” Harry said.

“Lemme…” Ash reached toward Harry’s hard erection, but it was just out of reach, and so he tugged on a bit of Harry’s skin on his hip, pulled a bit off.

Harry opened the package, a jar of Kirkburton’s Sensitizing Ointment came out.

“You got another one?” Ash asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, opening the folded parchment.

Harry, Harry,

Here’s the treatment you requested we procure for you. We did have reservations about your need at such a young age. We **strongly** urge you to talk to Madam Pomfrey  immediately about this medical condition.

Fred & George

Harry laughed.

“They’re right, you and Gia don’t need it,” Ash said.

Harry carried the jar, escorted Ash into the bathroom, closed and locked the door, before stepping into the bathtub with Ash.

“It’s for _you_ ,” Harry said.

“Me?” Ash asked.

“I don’t know why doing this—” Harry said as he tickled Ash’s penis “—makes you more confident when it…you have an orgasm, but you do.”

Harry worked the paste, coated Ash’s penis and scrotum in the cool bluish white.

“Feel better?” Harry asked.

Ash reached for Harry’s hard cock, pulled a bit of the loose, dead, skin from it. Harry felt the muscles respond, and he peed.

“Sorry,” Harry said.

“It’s okay,” Ash said, as Harry’s yellow jet hit Ash’s stomach. The ointment repelled the yellow liquid from Ash’s genitals, though Ash’s penis was stiffening.

Ash held Harry’s hard erection, peeled more, even after Harry had finished pissing, worked to the foreskin, retracted and worked the dead skin from the glans. Harry felt the spasms, his white sticky semen surged, squirted onto Ash.

“Fair play,” Ash said.

Harry turned on the shower, adjusted the water temperature, and began to work the shampoo into his hair, and Ash’s.

“You shower every day!” Ash said.

“You will also do it, when you get hair,” Harry said, “You’ll stink otherwise, and girls won’t like it when you’re stinky. Though with Gia, she likes a little bit of me stinking, but not a lot, so I wash in the morning. And, today, it’s a peeling sunburn, so I might have to use the shower at Hogwarts.”

“Those shower pictures were really you?” Ash asked.

“Likely yes,” Harry said, “Colin with that blasted camera.”

Ash took the soap, washed himself. Harry washed himself.

“This is…” Ash muttered as he ran the water over his penis. “Oh…aw.”

A smile crept across Ash’s face before he shut the water off. Harry handed him a towel, took one for himself. They went into Gia’s bedroom.

“Play with yourself,” Harry said.

“Huh?” Ash asked.

“I gave you that ointment so you can play with yourself,” Harry said, “Look, I don’t understand the why of it, just that you’re more confident in an orgasm. So, play with yourself, all day long, before you talk to Professor McGonagall, and make a new friend, alright?”

“Guess so,” Ash said.

Harry activated the Portkey, Ash held on, and they were whisked away. They landed on Harry’s new four poster bed in the dormitory.

“I’m happy to be your friend, of course,” Harry said, “Hogwarts is filled with people who do want to be your friend.”

“They’re mean,” Ash said.

“Some are mean, but most are friendly,” Harry said, “If you give them a chance.”

“Your skin, lets get your skin peeled,” Ash said.

Before Harry had a chance to refuse, Ash was already pulling. Ash went for the scrotum, pulled it from Harry, and Harry felt the stimulation. This time, Ash was standing to the side as Harry began to orgasm, again, pouring to the floor. Ash moved to Harry’s backside, while Harry worked on his arms.

* * *

Hermione sighed in the Great Hall as the owl delivered her The Daily Prophet .

“You always keep getting those, yet they bring you no happiness,” Ron said as he took delivery of a letter, his eyes left her, across the table, to the letter. Ron’s fingers began to open the letter

“It’s important to stay informed with what is happening in the world, wizarding or not,” Hermione said, her smile turned to a deep frown, “Such as this.”

Tuesday, 1 October, 1996 

The Daily Prophet

Fallerschain Scraps Muggle Protection Act

Muggle Protection Act has been repealed due to the efforts of the Minister of Magic, Victor Fallerschain.

Fallerschain issued a statement, “In its infancy, the Muggle Protection Act was a noble cause to educate the magical community about sensitivities toward Muggles. Today, the lessons have been learned and the act easily leads to petty violations that serve no useful purpose. Yesterday, I ordered the clearing of all Dark Arts shops from the existing Knockturn Alley for the renovation into Diagon Lane. As the lease of Fun and Power was terminated last month, the Muggle Protection Act is simply an outdated piece of legislation that has outlived its usefulness.

“The repeal of the Muggle Protection Act will help cut our expenses and reduce your taxes. The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office has already been eliminated.”

Harry entered the Great Hall; his cloak billowed as he walked; Ash followed him.

“Hi,” Harry said as he came to Gryffindor Table, “What’s happening?”

“Dad got fired,” Ron said, eyes on his letter.

“That’s awful,” Hermione said.

Harry sat next to Ron. Ash sat next to Harry.

“Is it common to be fired from the Ministry?” Harry asked.

“Sure, if you’re the Minister or secretary,” Ron said, “Not at Dad’s level, it should’ve been a job for life.”

“We’re sitting with first years now?” Neville asked.

“This is Ash,” Harry said, “Ash, this is Neville.” His hand reached beneath the table, massaged the crotch of the trousers, felt the erection beneath the cloth, and rubbed it.

“Hi,” Ash muttered.

“Hello,” Neville said.

“New tradition,” Harry said, “Hogwarts can pretty intimidating to a first year, so, adopt one Neville, you know, help them feel welcome. Every…say, fifth year and older should consider doing this. After all, Ash is a Gryffindor, so we ought to care for those of our house.”

“That’s rich, coming from _you_ ,” Thomas sneered.

“You beat em up just so you can be their _friend_?” Finnigan asked, “How much are you charging for _protection_?”

“Bug off!” Ron snapped.

“He’s already protected,” Thomas said, “Ron Weasley has nothing to fear, but we’ve learned to fear you.”

“Why the animosity?” Harry asked Ron.

“Dean docked us points last night, its why we’re less than zero,” Ron said, “Grumbled about Hermione being in our dormitory.”

“She’s invited, by us,” Harry said.

“I know,” Ron said, “It’s them being them.”

“I feel sorry for all of Gryffindor,” Macmillan said, loudly, “Except for the perps.”

“Baiting,” Ron said, “Don’t fall for it.”

“I figured _that_ ,” Harry said.

After breakfast, Harry brought Ash up to the first floor, they entered Professor McGonagall’s office.

“Potter, please be fast,” Professor McGonagall said, “I’m incredibly busy.”

“Come on,” Harry said to Ash.

Ash felt his crotch for a moment before he meekly waved as he muttered, “Hi.”

“Hello Mr. Hurley,” Professor McGonagall said.

Ash blushed.

“Off to History,” Harry said.

Ash immediately left.

“I fail to see the point, Mr. Potter,” Professor McGonagall said.

“Ash’s just as important as me,” Harry said, “A bit of time, he’ll be as talkative to you as he is to me.”

“I appreciate the effort,” Professor McGonagall said, “I also apologize if I seem a bit short. I’ve got a school to run, many more students than just yourself or Mr. Hurley.”

“It starts with one,” Harry said, “I’m helping Ash, expect to see us again.”

“Don’t be late to class yourself,” Professor McGonagall said.

“I did suggest, to the others, that we make it a tradition,” Harry said, “Adopting a first year, to mentor.”

“Admirable idea,” Professor McGonagall said, “Later.”

Harry left the office, went up to the second floor corridor.

“Jelly Babies,” Harry said to the Stone Gargoyle.

He stepped onto the stairs, they lifted him upward, and he knocked on the doors.

“Enter!” came the voice of Professor Dumbledore.

Harry entered.

“At least you read your schedule Harry,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “Seemed a bit odd.”

Professor Dumbledore worked his way over, sat in an armchair in front of the fireplace, moved his hand, and Harry sat across the table. Professor Dumbledore waved his wand, and a teapot with teacups appeared. He poured two. Harry took one of these, sipped.

“You seem fated to run into our … esteemed colleague, Mr. Riddle, again,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Am I right?”

“Yes,” Harry said, “He seems rather determined.”

“I figured it best for us to occasionally discuss him, you and I,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Right now, your current curriculum is close to adequate, but there are…gaps.”

“Such as?” Harry asked.

“Your scar, for instance,” Professor Dumbledore said, “None of your current classes will teach anything regarding it. The closest thing that could be of value is, of course, restricted. I am not allowed to teach it, nor arrange for its teaching, it’s a forbidden subject and so Hogwarts has not taught it in over a hundred years.”

“What is it?” Harry asked, curious.

“On occasion, you know things about Tom that not even his closest associates know,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Am I right?”

“Tidbits,” Harry said, “It’s not like I’m a spy.”

“As far as I can tell, Tom is unaware of this,” Professor Dumbledore said, “That scar connects you to him, and, if my hunch is right, Tom could use that connection to read your mind.”

“Read _my_ mind?” Harry asked, not wanting his mind to be read, by anybody. Closest he’s gotten to that has been with Ron, a knack of shrewd guesses when they’d study each other’s eyes.

“You find the thought just as disturbing as myself,” Professor Dumbledore said, before his sipped a bit more of the tea, his twinkling eyes on Harry, “It is a type of magic, lets me see what’s on the tip of your mind, useful as a teacher to discern when a student is lying.”

“Oh,” Harry said, now wondering what all the Headmaster has read that he wasn’t aware of.

“Relax,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I do not act on every lie, simply the ones of consequence, and even then, I’ll typically wait until the student has revealed the lie of their own accord. This branch of magic is Legilimency, but you are more interested in countermeasures, Occlumency, which should help you block the intrusion.”

“So you think I should learn this?” Harry asked.

“I will not tutor you, for if Tom were to break into your mind, the possible peril is too grave to consider,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Legally, I’m not even allowed to discuss this subject, so please keep this to yourself.”

“Of course,” Harry said.

“I have asked Severus, and he’s agreed to be your tutor,” Professor Dumbledore said, “However, it’d have to be after hours, and _you_ have to ask him, yourself.”

“Um…” Harry muttered. He reasoned that if the Headmaster was scared to be a tutor, that Harry certainly didn’t want Snape rooting around in his head either.

“This matter is simply too important to hesitate,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Bit busy,” Harry said, “You know, Quidditch, other lessons and all.”

“Of course,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Depending on Tom’s ambitions and discoveries, you might be safe with postponing to the winter break, but I wouldn’t hold out for that, if I were you.”

“Not certain on that,” Harry said.

“Harry, Poppy has insisted on many occasions that I agree to be, well, petrified, preserved, until a cure can be discovered,” Professor Dumbledore said, “But that would make me unavailable when I’m needed the most, which is now, which is helping you stop Tom’s ambitious plans. I’ve accepted death so that I can help you, because fate will bring you and Tom together, again. Tom’s ambitions must be stopped, whatever his current plan may be.”

“You don’t know what Voldemort’s up to?” Harry asked.

“Tom Riddle has never hidden his goals of power, fame, glory, respect, and immortality,” Professor Dumbledore said, “You can be certain that he has plans to obtain them. How his current actions fit into that plan, and the plans themselves, I do not have enough details to say that I can thwart him. I am certain that even though he and I do not need to meet again, you are almost fated to be involved, and I can prepare you for that encounter.”

“I am not casting the Killing Curse!” Harry stated.

“That’s an admirable sentiment,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I sincerely wish that you could get away without having to use it, and it’d be good to have alternatives. However, you must prepare yourself, be ready to act, because you may only get one chance.”

“I know,” Harry said, “I just can’t bring myself to use it.”

“I respect it, and I hope you succeed,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Now, for an essay, I want you to come up with ways that a person might try to avoid being killed if they’re struck by a Killing Curse, because you can bet Tom’s done the same research.”

“Thank you for the tea,” Harry said, not really caring for another essay.

“We’ll do these sessions from time to time,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I’m also considering having some official office hours, so students know I’m approachable.”

“It might work,” Harry said.

“Enjoy the day,” Professor Dumbledore said, “And send Ronald my sympathies regarding his father’s job.”

“I will,” Harry said.

Harry left the Headmaster’s office, headed for the Library.

* * *

Ron and Hermione left the Great Hall after lunch, Harry joined up with them on the first floor corridor.

“Of course I took my time,” Ron said, “After Dad getting fired—”

A crash behind; they turned around. Malfoy was there, glint in his eye on them.

“Well,” Malfoy sneered, “Like father like son; bitching about a little misfortune. Oh, I forgot, all Weasleys are poor, homeless, and now unemployed! Potter, do you really want to associate with that rubbish?”

“What’d you say arsehole?” Ron demanded

“Do not insult me,” Malfoy warned as he stepped closer to Ron.

Others nearby, including some third years, stopped, watched.

“Buzz off faggot!” Ron said.

“Well, boys and girls,” Malfoy said, “Looks like a murderer need a manners lesson!”

Malfoy shoved Ron. Ron swung, punched Malfoy in the eye. Malfoy’s left hook went to the stomach. Ron kneed hard into the crotch, along with a right hook jabbed into the rib cage. Malfoy moaned before clenching his fist back up.

“Shouldn’t we—?” Hermione whispered.

“He’s holding his ground,” Harry said. He steadied his hand on the hilt of his wand, just in case.

Malfoy returned a left hook to Ron’s jaw, a bit of blood splattered out. Harry drew his wand, a red stunner shot at Malfoy, a shot that glimmered in the eye of a fast approaching Professor Snape. Malfoy collapsed to ground.

“SILENCE!” Professor Snape ordered.

Every other student shrank away, fast.

“Potter, Weasley,” Professor Snape said, “Hundred points, each, from Gryffindor and two detentions for picking a fight! To your dormitories—immediately.”

Professor Snape conjured a stretcher beneath Malfoy; the stretcher lifted Malfoy, and went fast toward the Hospital Wing. Harry glanced at Ron’s bloodied mouth.

“Go to the Hospital Wing,” Harry said, “You’re bleeding.”

“No big deal,” Ron said as he wiped the blood from his mouth, nose.

“Ron—” Hermione pleaded.

Ron shook his head, bolted for the stairs. Harry and Hermione chased, toward Gryffindor Tower.

“Stop!” Hermione said.

Ron stopped, waited, while holding his sleeve to his face.

“You should see Madam Pomfrey,” Hermione said.

“I’m not a wuss!” Ron said, “It’ll heal.”

“Mr. Weasley,” Professor McGonagall said as she passed them, she stopped, “Why are you not in the Hospital Wing?”

“Snape wouldn’t permit it,” Ron said.

“I _insist_ you follow me there,” Professor McGonagall said.

“I’ll catch you later,” Ron said to Harry and Hermione; his eyes trained onto Harry’s for a moment.

Ron followed the Professor. Harry grinned.

“You!” Hermione said to Harry.

“What?” Harry asked, feigning ignorance.

Harry and Hermione went into Gryffindor Tower.

“Maybe you can help me with this essay,” Harry said.

“You know how I feel about that!” Hermione snapped.

“How does one survive a Killing Curse?” Harry asked.

“Oh, that’s not an easy one,” Hermione said, “When you’re the only one I know of who’s lived.”

“I know _that_ ,” Harry said, “How would Voldemort do it?”

“Ask Professor Tonks for an easier essay,” Hermione said.

“Professor Dumbledore gave it to me,” Harry said.

“Oh,” Hermione said, “He obviously wants _you_ to do it. I’ll be interested in reading it, good luck!”

“Thanks a lot!” Harry snapped.

“I’d suggest starting in the library,” Hermione said.

Harry glared.

* * *

Harry walked along the edge of the Quidditch Pitch, in the rain, Firebolt in hand. His bare feet seeped into the soggy grass, water moved down his stomach, soaked through his pubic hair before it dripped from his bare penis, hanging loosely as he was naked.

“Blimey Potter!” Oliver Wood said, a pair of Cleansweep Sevens in hand, “You’re going to get sick like that.” Oliver had a white and blue hoodie over his head, the rest of the jumper underneath his sweater.

“Ash should be along momentarily,” Harry said as he stopped in front of Oliver, underneath the eastern goal posts.

“You just want to fly starkers,” Oliver Wood said.

“That too,” Harry said.

“I understand, but this is Hogwarts,” Oliver Wood said.

“It’s also the unofficial Gryffindor Quidditch uniform,” Harry said.

“Really?” Oliver Wood asked, eyes up, less than believing.

“Yeah, as of—well, we’ve done it before,” Harry said, “Nice thing is, my clothes ain’t going to get soaked.”

Ash waved as he came over. Ash, too, was starkers, his right hand teasing the testicles beneath his short stiffy.

“Quit playing—” Oliver Wood started.

“Quiet!” Harry snapped at Oliver Wood.

“Potter!” Oliver Wood said to Harry.

“Let him play,” Harry said, “Ash, this is Oliver Wood, remember him?”

“Yes,” Ash replied.

Harry took one of the Cleansweeps from Oliver, handed it to Ash.

“Get on, and lets see you fly,” Harry said.

Ash nodded, got onto the broom. His left hand gripped the handle, while the right kept teasing, massaging. Ash waited for a moment, began to hover, just a bit, and drift.

“Just what are you playing at?” Oliver Wood asked Harry.

“To help,” Harry said, “Don’t ask me _why_ it works, I just know that if he’s playing with himself, if it’s sending those waves through him, then he comes out of his shell, a little bit at a time. It’s enough for me to work with, so I am, and so should you.”

Harry mounted his Firebolt, flew to catch up to trembling Ash. Ash’s hands were holding firm to the broom handle, just in front of the hard erection.

“I’m doing it,” Ash said, softly.

“Yes you are,” Harry said, “Play with yourself.”

“Yeah,” Ash muttered. Ash reached for his dick, massaged.

“Better?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Ash replied.

Ash flew next to Harry, alongside. His left hand reached over, grabbed Harry’s soft todger, the fingers worked it, stiffening Harry hard.

“Better,” Ash said.

“Let’s go a bit higher,” Harry said, “Or we may as well just get off and run.”

Ash laughed, and he pulled up. Ash flew higher, along side Harry, the wind blew them against the stands.

“Okay, breezy,” Ash said.

“Potter,” Oliver Wood said as he came to fly next to Harry, “Don’t you think he’s a bit new to be flying in rough weather?”

“He can handle it,” Harry said.

“Another day?” Oliver Wood said, “Or you’re going to have to swim back.”

“Come on,” Harry said to Ash, “Hagrid’s?”

“Get dressed, first,” Oliver Wood said, “Where are your clothes?”

“In the castle,” Harry said.

“You’re nutters,” Oliver Wood said.

“It’s flying,” Harry said, “Come along Ash.”

Harry and Ash flew, across the grounds, to the hut by the Forbidden Forest. Harry knocked.

“Whatcha doing out there like drowned rats?” Hagrid asked as he opened the door.

“Got caught out here while practicing a bit of flying,” Harry said, “May we come in?”

“Of course yeh can,” Hagrid said.

Water dripping from every appendage, every bang, their dicks, both Harry and Ash entered the hut.

“This is Ash,” Harry said, “The one I was looking for yesterday.”

“Oh, I thought—never mind,” Hagrid said.

“Come on,” Harry said to Ash, “Don’t be shy, Hagrid is big because his heart needs the room.”

“Thank yeh,” Hagrid said to Harry, beaming.

Ash and Harry sat, around the table. Harry double checked Hagrid’s view before he reached over, played and teased with Ash’s testicles, the penis, rubbed and massaged it. Harry felt the spasms as Ash relaxed.

“Hi,” Ash said to Hagrid.

Harry and Ash talked for an hour when the rain let up, it was starting to darken outside.

“Best to return before night,” Hagrid said.

Harry grabbed both brooms, went outside. They both felt the chill as the humid wind swept across their skin, drew away their heat. They ran, toes in the mud, until they came to the castle.

“I need to return the broom,” Harry said, “Go ahead, I’ll see you up in the dormitory before I take off.”

Ash went up the stairs. Harry walked along the ground floor corridor, came to the door with the blue and white banner of Puddlemere United tacked up on the outside. Harry opened it.

“I was wondering how long I’d have to wait,” Oliver Wood said, his feet propped up on his desk, papers in his hands, and his sweater sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“Don’t tell me you gave the first years an essay on flying,” Harry said as he put the Cleansweep Seven back into the cupboard, “Hermione could use one.”

Oliver Wood snorted. “She’s doesn’t like flying, does she?”

“No,” Harry said, “Me and Ron, we’ll talk her into it. At least Ash, he can fly, even if he lacks the courage to do so.”

“To which, your prescription was for him to fly butt naked,” Oliver Wood said, “Am I right?”

Oliver Wood surveyed Harry, standing there. Harry, with the raven black hair, the smooth chest with some ribs showing, the armpit hair coming in, the drying pubic hair, and a foreskin that had a small drip.

“Ash is simply the most comfortable flying when I’m naked,” Harry said, “And he follows my example.”

“You’d put a stop to it if you wanted to,” Oliver Wood said, “You _like_ flying naked.”

“That too,” Harry said, grin on his face, “I’m trying to get his confidence up, and my dick…for whatever reason, Ash is confident when it’s showing. So, I’ll show it.”

“Of course,” Oliver Wood said, “Of course, of course, Potter.”

“Those are a lot of essays,” Harry said.

“It’s the first year’s Transfiguration essays,” Oliver Wood said, “A favor to Professor McGonagall, she’s overworked.”

“Understood,” Harry said, “I’ll be going if there’s nothing else.”

“One more, you seem awfully comfortable with going naked,” Oliver Wood said, “Heck, you even ran that marathon naked, if those pictures in The Daily Prophet are to be believed.”

“It’s Hermione’s fault,” Harry said.

“Of course,” Oliver Wood said.

“She and Gia, started out as a prank,” Harry said, “See, sure, we rescued Hogwarts starkers, but that was nothing to their prank. It grew, and now, I kinda like it.”

“I understand the temptation, Potter,” Oliver Wood said, “When it’s you and just the broom, though best make sure you’ve wiped your arse.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “You’ve flown starkers?”

“You don’t play professional Quidditch without an occasional jinx,” Oliver Wood said, “Best to be familiar with it.”

“You practice all the time?” Harry asked.

“Not every day,” Oliver Wood said, “Have you considered going professional? You’re comfortable on the broom, even when starkers, and you’re a damn good Seeker.”

“Um…I was thinking about being an Auror,” Harry said.

“A professional Quidditch career is typically short,” Oliver Wood said, “And you can work a regular job too.”

“Maybe,” Harry said.

“I’d ask around next year if I were you,” Oliver Wood said, “Perhaps even see if a scout is willing to come and watch, there’s usually at least a handful who watch the final.”

“I’ll consider it,” Harry said, “I best be going.”

“Thank you Potter,” Oliver Wood said.

Harry left the office. Harry climbed the many steps, returned the grins of some of the girls as he passed, Firebolt in his hand. Perhaps it helped, Harry bemused, for them to see his charm if it helped them overlook the presumption of murder. He made it to the seventh floor and entered Gryffindor Common Room. He paused for a moment in front of the fireplace, scanned for Ash who was not there. Instead, he turned, faced the fire, let the heat seep in, loosen his testicles.

“I’d rather go to the astronomy tower for a full moon!” Finnigan snapped.

“Kiss it,” Harry retorted.

“You’re not a murderer,” Ginny said, as she came to stand next to Harry, “Know how I know?”

“How?” Harry asked.

“This simple test will tell,” Ginny said. She went to her knees, her fingers teased Harry’s testicles, her eyes watched the todger stiffen, and she put her mouth over the head of his cock. She began to lick.

“Excuse me!” Harry snapped, pulled back.

“It’s the test!” Ginny stammered.

Finnigan laughed.

“It’s not funny,” Harry said.

“Yes it is Potter!” Finnigan said, “It’s how you pay her piper.”

“No,” Harry stated.

Harry grabbed his Firebolt and went for the stairs.

“Your fault for going around stalkers!” Finnigan shouted.

Harry’s hard erection swayed as he went up the stairs. He entered the sixth years’ dormitory, crossed the room, and put his Firebolt down. His left toes kicked open the top to his trunk before he bent over, grabbed his Portkey and wand. Harry activated it when the hand came out from beneath the blankets on his four poster, Ash touched the Hogwarts Pin just as Harry felt the usual jerk behind the naval. Him and Ash were whisked away.

“Ash!” Harry stammered.

They landed in Gia’s bedroom. Harry’s eyes landed on the naked eleven year old boy with black hair and blue eyes.

“Ash, I’ve got permission to do this from the Headmaster, you do _not_ ,” Harry said, “I can’t keep having you tag along. An emergency was one thing, this is becoming routine.”

“Not going back tonight,” Ash promised.

“I commute so I can spend time with Gia, every night, just her and me, get it?” Harry said, “I can’t keep bringing you out on the town, it also gets suspicious. If you’re not going back tonight, then you stay here. I’ve got all of my first through fifth year books on that shelf—” he pointed to the bookshelf beneath Hedwig’s perch. “I also keep parchment and quills there, so you can work on your homework, if you want. Later.”

Harry’s buttocks flexed as he left the bedroom, closed the door. Harry hurried down the stairs, left 26 Oak St, took the hard right, and cut along the path that ran adjacent to the house.

“You’re the horniest bastard I know!” yelled Andy at Harry as she came along the path.

“Sorry?” Harry stammered.

“Always parading that around,” Andy said, “At least I know you can keep it up!”

Andy bolted for the house. Harry thought about it for a moment, kept on walking for Gia’s school.

* * *

Ash laid on the bed, glanced at the idle perch of Hedwig.

“Guess you’re hunting,” Ash said, to the imagined Hedwig on it.

Ash went to the shelf, smiled at the mixture of Muggle and Wizarding books, thumbed until he found A History of Magic , took it out, and began to read.

Slam! Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!

A bit of sobbing came with it. Ash felt the urge, he got up, went out, entered the bathroom, and peed into the toilet.

“Andrea, what’s wrong?” came Kristen’s voice.

“Go AWAY!” Andy barked.

Ash wasn’t certain, two strangers, he didn’t know. He cracked the door open, to peer out, for he needed to know where they were. However, the tall lady, her eyes caught this, her eyes bore straight down on eleven year old Ash standing just behind the door.

“Who are you?” Kristen asked Ash, “Come out.”

Ash blushed; Andy, though, rushed the door.

“There you are!” Andy said.

Andy pushed Ash against the wall, her brassiere pushed against Ash’s upper chest, she brought her lips to his, and kissed. Andy’s hands moved down, past her lace panties, to feel Ash’s penis. Expertly, Andy’s fourteen year old fingers knew what they were doing, as they teased Ash’s foreskin; though Ash’s genitals were still under the effect of Kirkburton’s Sensitivizing Ointment , so Andy’s movements only served to accentuate the dry orgasms permeating throughout Ash’s body.

“Andrea!” Kristen exclaimed, “Who is this?”

“My boyfriend!” Andy snapped, “Back off!”

“Uh…” Ash muttered. He wasn’t anybody’s boyfriend as far as he knew.

“Stephen?” Kristen asked.

“Not this week,” Andy said.

“Frank?” Kristen asked.

“Ninacompoop, like he thought I wouldn’t find out about her!” Andy snapped.

“Any more?” Kristen said, “Who is this one?”

“Go ahead,” Andy said to Ash, “Tell her your name.”

“You don’t know?” Kristen asked Andy.

“Ash, my name’s Ash,” Ash said.

“Well, Ash,” Kristen said, “I don’t know what made you think you could just show up—”

“YOU’RE RUINING IT!” Andy shouted at Kristen, “HE’S MY BOYFRIEND!”

Andy grabbed Ash by the hand, pulled him away from the bathroom, down the stairs. She escorted Ash out the front door, pulled him along.

“Excuse me?” Ash asked, the orgasms still going, and he had to find out what this girl was up to.

“Thank you for going along with this,” Andy said, bringing Ash to walk fast along with her. They took the path, walked along, crossed the street.

“I’m starkers,” Ash said.

“I’m in my knickers,” Andy said.

“Andrea—” Ash started.

“Andy!” Andy snapped, “Call me Andy! Not some stupid thing my Mum came up with!”

“Alright,” Ash muttered, his penis already soft, as he walked with Andy.

A short ways, they came to Lucious Layers . Andy opened the door, they walked in. Inside, cases with cakes, some suggestive, frosted to various colors, sorted by the event one was holding, whether that was for birthdays, weddings, or even funerals.

“Ant!” came the bark from behind the counter. Another boy, blond hair, glared back.

“I’ve got news—I’m over you!” Andy said, “I’ve found better, _Frank_!”

“He’s a bit young—” Frank started.

“At least he can get the job done!” Andy said, “Tell me, have you been able to get Jodi to at least do this?”

Andy dropped to her knees, pushed Ash against the display case. Her fingers teased Ash’s penis stiff, and her mouth went over it. Ash had seen Gia doing this to Harry, but now, he was experiencing it, the wet tongue feeling him up, feeling as his orgasms came back.

“No banging in the shop!” Frank said, “Leave!”

“Just imagine what we could’ve been!” Andy said as she stood back up, before she whispered to Ash, “Play along.”

Andy dropped her panties, leaned against Ash as she held the vulva open, his hard erection went in. She removed her bra, grabbed Ash’s hands, and put them onto her developing breasts. Ash wasn’t certain what to make of it, as Andy flexed her hips, except to feel her tits; her hard nipples, as his penis slid, jousting into her.

“I’ve rang the silent alarm,” Frank said, “Coppers are on their way, your Mum—”

“Doesn’t know squat,” Andy said, “I’m sick of your face anyways.”

Andy moved back, grabbed Ash’s hand, and pulled him out of the store.

“Pardon?” Ash asked.

“Thank you,” Andy said, “You don’t know how much of a nightmare Frank’s been. I think he’s seeing Jodi. Maybe it was Lindsey? Some whore, I’m sure.”

They entered Bailey’s Chemist . Andy walked along the aisles, stepped near the maternity aids. She spun Ash, pushed him back against the shelf, and surveyed him. From his toes, up the knees, to loiter on the hard penis with the testicles beneath, before her eyes went upward, across the chest, to his face with the blue eyes beneath his black hair.

“You are cute, very cute,” Andy said, “How old are you?”

“Eleven,” Ash whispered.

“If only you were fourteen, you’d be—” Andy felt Ash’s foreskin “—sure, optional, but just having to unsheath it, it adds that nice, extra step, you know what I mean?”

Ash shook his head.

“Sorry I took your innocence,” Andy said, “Frank can be…so much like Henry! Still, I like what you have to offer, I think I can work with it.”

Andy leaned back in, brought his erection back inside her, and she held her hands against Ash’s jaws before she came in, her hard nipples pushed against his chest as she kissed. Her tongue crept in between his lips, and Ash blushed.

“Don’t be nervous, don’t be scared,” Andy said, “Let it happen.”

Andy brought her hands down his back, massaged into his buttocks, moved around, felt a bit into the crack, before he felt it. Her fingers pushed, spread his anus open, it felt tight as the fingers moved inward.

“Come on, work it, feel me up,” Andy said.

Ash pushed on her, they went to the other side of the aisle, with Andy against the shelves. His bum didn’t feel quite right, still aching, but her hands guided his, to feel the hard point just above where his shaft went into her. He drew upon what he had seen Harry do, flexed, let his hard cock move.

“Much to teach, you’d be slobbering all over yourself already if you were older,” Andy said, “Have you done it with a girl, before?”

Ash shook his head.

“Okay, I’ll give you the handicap on this,” Andy said, “Lets move.”

Andy pushed Ash back a bit, enough for him to get out, and they left the shop.

“Have to admit, you kinda not–dress like—” Andy said, “My bloke of a brother, guess there’s this slut he loves, from school, so he offered her a bedroom!”

“Gia?” Ash asked.

“Maybe he just likes showing her his dick,” Andy said, “Along with his supposed _girlfriend_? I was laughing when he got cut off at the pass, the slut already had this strange boyfriend, similar hair to yours.”

“Harry?” Ash asked.

“That might be his name,” Andy said, “Honestly, after a while—I think he’s loaded. But the quirkiest of cards, useless!”

Andy brought Ash into Dave’s Burgers .

“No shirts, no shoes, no—” the male cashier started.

“Then I’ll just have to take a shit,” Andy said, “You know that I will, right _here_. My friend will too—do you really want to clean up the crap, again?”

“Take it and go!” the cashier snapped. Quickly, a bag was handed over.

Andy pulled on Ash’s wrist, they left. She opened the bag.

“Good, they finally remembered a drink!” Andy exclaimed.

“You do this—?” Ash asked.

“Often,” Andy said, “Better than being stupid and actually paying for it. Don’t tell me you’re the type of idiot to want to smear me with ketchup just to lick it off?”

“Why?” Ash asked.

“That slut does,” Andy said, “Here.”

Andy set the bag down on a table outside a cafe.

“Just don’t look,” Andy said.

Ash was pushed against the table, away from her, as her fingers went back into his anus. This time, Ash felt plastic sliding along, out, as Andy tugged.

“Sorry, they occasionally search me,” Andy said, as she put the plastic capsule down on the table, “You didn’t need to shit, did you?”

“No,” Ash replied.

Andy sat, her hand hinted for Ash to do the same, so he did. Ash watched as she used napkins to twist and open the plastic container, dropped a pill onto a bit of the crumpled paper bag.

“That’s…?” Ash started.

“Helps with morning sickness,” Andy said, before swigging it down with the soda, “I’m not this hungry.”

Ash helped himself to the cheeseburger. Andy took a napkin, dipped it into the soda, and cleaned the plastic canister.

“So those—?” Ash started, eyes at the pills.

“Whatever you do, don’t tell my Mum,” Andy said, “I’ll kill you myself if she ever found out I’m pregnant.”

“You’re—?” Ash stammered.

“Don’t act that surprised,” Andy snapped.

Ash wondered if Andy’s behavior had something to do with those…hormones that Madam Pomfrey had lectured them on. Ash was confused about this, though he did appreciate her tits that were on display. Andy watched as he finished the chips.

Burp!

Ash blushed.

“What’d you be doing tonight?” Andy asked, “If you hadn’t of found me?”

“Homework,” Ash said.

“Aren’t you glad to not have to bother with it?” Andy asked.

“No,” Ash said. Ash enjoyed his studies, just not his classmates nor teachers.

“Should we go back?” Andy asked.

“Yes,” Ash replied.

Andy stood, held the plastic container, now washed clean. Ash followed her.

“You are cute,” Andy said, “So, you know that slut’s boyfriend?”

“Harry?” Ash asked.

“You do,” Andy said, “Where?”

“School,” Ash said.

“Oh,” Andy said, “He commutes.”

“I followed,” Ash said.

Ash, though, figured he shouldn’t say more, instead, held her hand. Andy seemed agreeable, didn’t talk until they reached 26 Oak St.

“Where’s home?” Andy asked.

“Cornwall,” Ash said.

They climbed the stairs, took the first door on the right, into the green painted bedroom.

“Peeing,” Ash said, he walked back out, over into the bathroom. Andy followed him in, closed the door.

Ash turned his back toward her, began to piss into the toilet.

“We’ve had _sex_ ,” Andy said.

“I know,” Ash said. It dawned on him, that was real sex that they had.

“There, if Mum finds them, she’ll think it belongs to the slut,” Andy said, “Or Richard. I don’t care, so long as it’s not me.”

Ash shook his penis, let the last droplet fly before he wiped it. He washed his hands, opened the door. He walked into Gia’s bedroom. He gathered the parchment, quill, ink jar, and book, brought them over into the green bedroom. He set them down on the narrower bed, laid front side down, propped his elbows up, and began to read.

“That’s—” Andy started.

“History,” Ash replied.

Andy sat on the bed, slapped his buttocks for a moment.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” Andy said, “Have fun.”

Andy slapped his buttocks, again, before she left the bedroom.

* * *

Harry laughed as he and Gia entered the house, well past dusk, both naked. His todger swung as they climbed up the steps, when Richard came out to them on the landing.

“Ant’s got a new boyfriend,” Richard said, “There’s nobody at school by the name of Ash.”

Harry spun, glanced into the bedroom without a door. On the bed, side by side, Andy was piled into Ash, both asleep beneath the blankets.

“Okay…” Harry said slowly, “He’s from my school, little bugger tagged along.”

“Maybe it’ll do her good,” Richard said.

“Deal with it in the morning,” Harry said.

“Agreed,” Richard whispered.

Harry went into Gia’s bedroom.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” Harry said as he crawled into bed with Gia.

“Maybe Richard’s right,” Gia said, “One wizard, two wizards. Maybe it’ll help them both.”

“Suppose so,” Harry said.

“I do have those tryouts tomorrow,” Gia said.

“Oh? Those?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, those,” Gia said, “Good night.”

Gia gave him a kiss. Harry curled up on his side as the blanket went over him, felt as Gia’s breasts pushed against his back, her hands reached around, felt his erection between her hands. Her finger pushed in between his testicles, rubbed, and helped him fall to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit that last month left the pipeline a bit dry, I had really pushed. Right now, struggling a bit with Ash, a new character with this rewrite, who's really sticking his nose into things :)


	31. Boyfriend

A stone archway, with a curtain. Within the curtain, Harry, with his jet black hair, and Ron with his red hair, had their fists banging.

“Help!” Harry and Ron screamed, “Help!”

Voldemort stood nearby, laughing.

Hermione woke up, tense, it was still early Wednesday morning. She immediately felt to her left, with the slumbering idiot of Ron, drooling onto his pillow; both on his four poster bed. Hermione closed her eyes, but her mind was replaying her dream, repeatedly, and so she rolled out of bed, stood up. She went to the water pitcher, poured herself a cup, and sipped as she started to pace.

“That was you?” Neville whispered.

Hermione nearly jumped, tensed up, until she saw that it was just him. Neville’s eyes tried to avoid seeing her naked as she stood there.

“Maybe,” Hermione said, uncertain to what Neville heard.

Hermione went for the door. Down the stairs, until she came to the common room. She crossed over to the fireplace, embers still glowing and heating it up, and sat on the sofa. Neville followed, sat next to her. He blushed as her eyes spotted his white briefs.

“You screamed,” Neville said.

“A nightmare and not the first time,” Hermione said, “It’s similar, all of them, a stone arch, I can’t place it for the life of me, but it seems dangerous, deadly. Harry and Ron, well, Voldemort does them in.”

“You dropped Divination in third year,” Neville said.

“I know,” Hermione said, “I think it just means I’m overlooking something, and danger’s just around the corner.”

“It’s not as bad as Harry’s night terrors,” Neville said, “I don’t know where he goes at night, but thank Merlin he’s not here, it was rough sleeping.”

“He’s found…” Hermione stalled as she realized she was nearly about to divulge Harry’s secret commute; she refocused her mind. “She’s got her craft down, those night terrors aren’t as bad as they used to be.”

“You mean she’s touching him in a way we’re not supposed to be touched,” Neville said.

“Why should you not be touched?” Hermione asked.

“Not saying that,” Neville said, “Just you’re not supposed to touch me under my shorts—you, you don’t even bother with the shorts where I’m not supposed to touch you.”

“I…” She realized how much Harry and Ron had influenced her, she wasn’t even concerned about being naked in front of Neville. “I’d rather not wake Ron, can you—lemme show you.”

Hermione grabbed Neville’s left hand, extended his fingers, brought it to her crotch.

“I’m not supposed to—” Neville started.

“Yes you are,” Hermione said, “Give it a try, be gentle.”

Hermione brought his left index finger to her clitoris. Neville blushed, stammered, as his left fingers touched her.

“Do it yourself,” Neville said.

“Sure, I could do it myself,” Hermione said, “It simply works a lot better when somebody else tries it.”

Hermione brought his left fingers back, Neville began to tease, to massage.

“Be as rough as when you wank,” Hermione said, “Thank you. By the way, it’s definitely alright when the girl wants you to touch her.”

A tent pole grew beneath Neville’s white briefs, he blushed.

“I’d be offended if you didn’t,” Ron said, as he entered, naked. A glow from the fireplace lit him up softly, with the distinctive red pubic hair above the loose todger.

“I…” Neville stuttered.

“Keep it up,” Ron said, towering from behind the sofa, and pressed a bit, his balls cleared the back of the sofa.

Hermione studied the circle foreskin where Ron’s tip showed, it widened a bit as the todger stiffened. Hermione watched Ron’s erection grow as Neville reached and continued.

“I…” Neville stuttered again, his eyes trained on Ron’s hard erection above them.

“More,” Hermione whispered, “Doing fine.”

Hermione focused on the bulge of Neville’s shorts, knew his erection was beneath, an erection that pushed upward, an erection that seemed alright, friendly. She felt the waves of pleasure as the fingers kept up. Not Ron, not Harry, but Neville, who still needed to learn, but was different enough to stimulate as the orgasms came to her. Neville’s right hand brushed against the cloth when he tried to adjust his briefs; instead, he pulled back both hands as movement began. Neville’s erection squirmed, sticky off–white seed pulsed through the cloth.

“She’s _your_ girlfriend,” Neville said to Ron.

“I don’t own her, nobody owns Hermione,” Ron said, “I love her, and I understand she’s free to ask whomever she wants, and I’ll be mightily angry if you ever disappoint her.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said to Ron, “And you too Neville.”

“I’ll let you two—later,” Neville said as he stood, his hand moved to cover the stained, dripping, bulge.

“Wait—!” Ron started.

“LATER!” Neville exclaimed as he went back for the stairs.

“You may as well sit,” Hermione said.

Ron pushed with his left hand, swung his legs, and sat down next to her. She reached over, held his hard cock.

“I woke up,” Ron said, “Must’ve been you not being there.”

“Couldn’t get back to sleep,” Hermione said.

“Let’s try,” Ron said as he moved to lean down over her; moved her to her back.

Ron kissed her as he teased her nipples. Her fingers felt the hardness, the ridge, the edge of the glans, the slit. She knew Ron was more than this, that he was her friend, with a brain he loathed to use and a heart that was nearly as generous as Harry’s, that he had muscles to fly and play Quidditch, with fingers that liked to make her feel on top of the world. However, the shaft in her hands had come to embody, to represent, all of that, in one convenient package, one that Ron loved to share with her.

“I know…” Hermione said, hoping he’d get the hint.

Instead, Hermione figured that he needed a stronger clue. She moved her legs up, wrapped her calf muscles over his buttocks, and pulled upward. Ron’s hands sunk, held her hips. She flexed, let his erection bump against her labia. She held the tip, and he pushed inward.

“That works too,” Ron said.

Hermione didn’t wish to explain it, the need, after a nightmare about losing him. To feel his hard cock, a cock that had come to symbolize their friendship, move against her skin as he penetrated, drilled, a cock that reminded her that it was just a nightmare, Ron was right here with his balls swinging against her while he pushed and pulled. Ron slowed down, moved slightly more carefully, pushed, until she breathed deeply. He pulled out, rested her on the sofa. She saw the slit on his tip, it wasn’t white, she understood he wanted to finish outside her. His left knee was between the back and her on the cushion, while his right foot moved him enough to be straddling her stomach. His loose balls hung there, low. He lowered himself until his balls rested on her abdomen. She reached up, touched the glans, worked her finger around.

“Better?” Hermione asked.

Ron stayed quiet, his thigh muscles clenched to stabilize, as the dick quivered, as surges pulsed along his urethrae, and the hot sticky liquid poured out of his slit. His face watched hers, waited for her approval of his spill, a spill that sent warm splatters onto her chest, between her breasts. He moved, lowered himself, to cover her like a blanket, with his freshly juiced softening todger on her thigh, his semen trapped between their chests, as he rested his head between hers and the back.

“Does that help?” Ron asked.

She knew Ron had just given her the right medicine. Ron was right there and he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Yeah,” Hermione said.

His arms held her tightly, he wasn’t going to let go, at least not willingly. And even though Ron did fall to sleep first, his presence helped Hermione return to sleep.

* * *

“So, Ant’s new boyfriend is your _project_ from school?” Richard asked as he and Harry ran.

“Yep,” Harry said, his hard cock swung with every step, “He’s not supposed to be following me here, but he is.”

“You haven’t taken your piss yet,” Richard observed.

“I know,” Harry said, “Gia…she…”

“Understood,” Richard said.

Harry’s loose testicles bounced around, a sensation he had long come to enjoy and it helped him stay hard. He kept his foreskin partially retracted, let the slit show, in case it became too desperate. His bladder was most certainly full, pressing against him, as he ran, and took every effort of spare concentration to keep it inside.

“Just be careful,” Richard said, “Ant changes boyfriends as often as Mom changes her sheets, which is often.”

“I had thought it was Stephan,” Harry said.

“Might still be,” Richard said, “I don’t think Ant pays any attention to exclusivity.”

They entered 26 Oak St, Harry went up the stairs.

“You like to run,” Ash remarked.

“Feels good,” Harry said, “Gia, shower.”

Gia and Harry left the bedroom, entered the bathroom. Gia laid in the bathtub. Harry stood, both feet on the ledge. Gia looked up at Harry, aiming his hard cock.

“What chya doing?” Ash asked, coming in, he leaned over the edge, “See this feels like Kermit?”

Ash grabbed Harry’s hard erection as Harry began to squirt. Ash slipped in as Harry’s yellow jet began to move rapidly. Harry watched as his own piss, piss that began to stench up the room, collided with Ash’s head. Ash simply grinned.

“Gross,” Ash muttered.

“It’s meant for—” Harry started.

“Fine, it’s fine,” Ash said.

Harry was already committed, his body not wanting him to stop, as Ash spun underneath Harry’s yellow stream. Ash’s buttocks, facing upward between Gia’s breasts, took most of Harry’s pee as he urinated. Harry admitted defeat to himself, let Ash aim, roll, as Harry kept pissing. Ash giggled, laughed, as he splashed in the yellow shower pouring down on him, the stream now hit Ash on the chest, rolled down to his penis. Ash watched the slit, as Harry’s pee started to end. Ash immediately stroked the erection, teased, before Harry felt the surge, of the orgasm, and Harry’s white poured out to join the yellow on the stomach.

“He knows you,” Gia said to Harry.

“I know,” Harry said.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Ash said.

Ash’s fingers worked Harry’s testicles, felt the hair rooted in the skin, an action that soothe Ash a bit. Harry decided to stop fighting, figured that Ash would eventually just tire, and that’d be better. Instead, Harry relaxed, a bit, let Ash touch the slit still oozing with semen, before Harry turned the tap, turned on the shower. Harry knelt, ran the soap onto Ash, the fingers cleaned the testicles. Ash rested Harry’s softening cock onto Ash’s erection, their testicles rested together. Ash’s eyes studied Harry’s genitals, the penis, the black pubic hair. Harry let Ash continue to fondle, continue to hold their genitals together, as Harry washed the boy. Ash seemingly wanted the intimate contact, and Harry figured that if it helped Ash, it helped. Ash kept feeling into Harry’s soft scrotum, felt the lumps of the testicles, while Harry washed the evidence away from Ash’s skin, washed the hair, the arms, and everything else.

“Don’t forget me,” Gia said to Harry.

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry said.

Ash stood as Harry moved his arms to the hips. Ash’s hands moved to show off the smooth loose testicles hanging between the boyish V, the folds of skin tying each ball into support further back.

“I think he wants your opinion,” Gia said.

Ash nodded.

Harry touched the tip of the foreskin, bunched together over the hard erection, where Ash still had a bit of room to grow in. Harry felt each lump, hanging before him.

“Good,” Harry said, “Did Ant—?”

“Andy could’ve been lying,” Ash said, “She’s fun, but a liar.”

“These are—” Both of Harry’s fingers held the loose balls “—good. She’s not lying about these.”

“Thanks,” Ash said.

“In fact…” Harry leaned in, puckered up, kissed Ash’s right. “Better?”

“Yeah,” Ash said, “More.”

Harry moved back, slightly, inspected Ash’s hard shaft, felt where the ridge of the glans beneath the foreskin showed. Harry’s finger ran the short lap of foreskin, it began to retract. Harry studied the tip, Ash’s exposed glans with its slit. Harry leaned in, kissed it.

Ash laughed.

“You bastard,” Harry said as he pulled back, slightly, “You just wanted me to kiss your dick!”

Ash belted in more laughter. Ash flexed himself forward, brought the hard cock closer to Harry, brought the slit to touch Harry’s lip. Ash moved a bit more, the flesh moved in between Harry’s lips, touched the tongue. Again, after a brief pause, Ash pushed further as the erection moved down the tongue until the balls pushed against the chin. Ash flexed, the shaft slid out and in. Harry sucked as Ash giggled. Harry held Ash’s buttocks, kept Ash pinned for a moment, as Harry’s tongue began to explore. Harry’s tongue explored into the foreskin, while Ash giggled. Harry felt the spasms, the dick that wanted to release, but didn’t know how, and Harry pulled away.

“Do need to get to school,” Harry said.

“Yeah,” Ash said.

Ash did move as Harry stood up. Harry pulled Gia to stand up. Harry held Gia tight, before he felt the fingers. Ash threaded Harry’s soft cock into her vagina.

“One squirt wonder,” Gia said.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Ash said.

Harry grabbed the shampoo, began to work Gia’s hair as he felt the fingers lathering up his genitals. Harry no longer had to look to know it was Ash doing it. Harry had to admit to himself, Ash was being careful, likely doing a better job than Harry would do himself, as the fingers soaped up the penis, the testicles, and even worked the anus. Gia, though, waited for a moment before she took the body wash from Ash, and worked Harry up. Ash’s fingers rinsed, Harry felt the teasing, the stiffening, as Ash, once again, test fitted Harry’s hard erection into Gia’s vulva.

“Just let him be,” Gia said to Harry.

Harry simply had to trust, trust that Ash understood what he was doing, that Ash’s fingers which were exploring the fit between Harry’s cock and Gia’s vaginal walls would help Ash in some fashion. Ash’s finger squeezed inward, teased, and Harry felt the spasms come back, though Harry was spent, the hard cock pretended like it wasn’t. Ash’s fingers idled, touched Harry’s slit, knew more about Harry’s orgasm than even Harry did.

“This afternoon?” Harry asked Gia.

“Yep,” Gia said, “Four.”

“I’ll try to be there,” Harry said.

Bong!

“Shit,” Gia said, “I must go.”

Gia pulled back, Ash’s finger and Harry’s cock slipped out of her vagina. Gia quickly scrubbed, rinsed, grabbed a shower, and ran out.

“Ash, Ash,” Harry said, “I don’t mind being open with you, but please, let me have a moment with my girlfriend, from time to time, okay?”

“I guess so,” Ash said, “Guess I understand.”

“It’s why I commute instead of sleeping at Hogwarts,” Harry said, “I simply love her.”

* * *

Ron looked up from his plate, watched Hermione sit down, before he worked on the slab of bacon. Hermione took The Daily Prophet into her hands, began to read.

“Nothing of interest, is there?” Ron said, “Like giving Dad his job back?”

“No,” Hermione said, “Some letters to the editor protesting the move on Knockturn Alley.”

“Can imagine why,” Ron said.

Finnigan and Thomas entered, a young girl in their shadow, followed. A first year boy moved to sit next to Neville.

“Strange,” Hermione said, glancing at Neville.

“Hi,” the boy said, “I’m Ruff, glad your _friend_ isn’t around.”

“You mean Harry?” Ron asked.

“Yes, the one who beat me up!” Ruff said, “I’m astounded the Ministry dropped the charges. How much was _that_ bribe?”

“Shouldn’t you be sitting with…I don’t know, the _first years_?” Ron asked.

“It’s Seamus’ new idea,” Neville said, “I like it, you know, you should take a first year under your wing too.”

“That was Harry’s idea,” Ron said.

“Stop stealing credit!” Finnigan snapped.

“Yeah!” Thomas retorted, “Five points for theft!”

“Ignore them,” Hermione said to Ron, “Harry’d just be glad its happening.”

“Harry came up with it—yesterday!” Ron said to Hermione.

“Ignore it,” Hermione said.

Ron did survey the table, it was much more mingled, first years sitting among the fifth and sixth, while some second years were sitting with the seventh. The Hufflepuff table was similarly mixed.

“The idea is that we can help them feel more comfortable, part of the house,” Neville said, “I mean, you remember how intimidating Slytherin could be our first year, it’s good for them to be able to come to us. And, it makes them feel more welcome too.”

“I’d be okay with all of it,” Ron said, “But Harry suggested the exact same thing yesterday, and now, it’s suddenly their idea?”

“Buzz off,” Neville snapped.

* * *

“So, your boyfriend has a kid brother?” Tracy asked as she and Gia walked along, Snuffles followed a bit behind them.

“No, he’s an only child, and an orphan at that,” Gia said, “Another kid from school, he’s kinda adopted as one.”

“Aw,” Tracy said.

“Absolutely cute, handsome, though shy until he gets to know you,” Gia said, “Downright curious about my boyfriend’s sexuality with me. It’s starting to freak the boyfriend out, which is funny to watch.”

“The boyfriend who likes to run around starkers?” Tracy said, “You do in his presence too.”

“Given how much he had worked into his head, stuff he had to clear out in order to have sex,” Gia said, “It’s doing him a world of good to just loosen up, and let it hang.”

“You certainly enjoy it,” Tracy said.

“Of course, of course,” Gia said, grin on her face.

Tracy laughed, Gia joined in the laughter.

“Speak of the devil,” Tracy said.

Straight ahead, leaning back against the brick, with his flat chest and ribs behind his crossed arms, the scraggly wild pubic hair unabashedly on display, his dick dangling in front of his crossed legs, was Harry. His bottle green eyes focused on Gia. Harry took no action to stop or hide as his todger stiffened up, the foreskin retracted over his glans, as the erection now jutted outward. Instead, Harry opened the door.

“You two.” Tracy laughed at Harry’s smile. “Don’t tell me you forgot your swimsuit.”

“She doesn’t need that,” Harry said.

“You two would do that, wouldn’t you?” Tracy asked.

“I second that idea,” said the blond haired Nate, before he moved into the boys’ locker room.

Harry led Gia further in, to the deck of the swimming pool.

“I need to change,” Gia said to Harry.

Harry stepped closer, moved her book bag down before he undid the buttons to her dress shirt, removed it. He reached around to the snap of her brassiere.

“Don’t need this,” Harry said as he pulled the straps down from her shoulders, “You don’t need it.”

“School dress code requires it,” Gia said.

“Definitely agree with him,” Nate said, now standing there in tight green swim trunks with a yellow stripe.

“Ignore him, he’s just a pervert,” Harry said, “You, you’re simply beautiful, and it ought to be a crime to cover it up.”

Harry felt her breasts, the nipples, sank his hands into them. Gia felt each finger pushing inward. His erection remained. She glanced at Nate, blushing, with hands that tried to shield the tent pole beneath his shorts.

“Next…” Harry worked her belt, the front button, and zipper to her slacks.

“No sex right now,” Gia said, “I have to swim.”

“Got to distract the blokes,” Harry said as her trousers fell, “They’re not going to be able to swim straight.”

Gia smiled, appreciated the thought, as Harry pulled the elastic away from her skin, and dropped her panties. Harry took no pains to hide his left hand that felt the skin around her crotch, teased her clitoris for a moment. His right arm pulled her close, his hard cock touched just beneath as his bottle green eyes looked up to her blues.

“Good luck,” Harry said, “And don’t forget to pee in the pool.”

“These are _my_ classmates,” Gia said. However, his thought did seed itself into her mind, and her bladder seemed keen to filling up.

“Go get em,” Harry said as he kissed her.

Gia slipped out of her shoes, went over to join the line up. Gia glanced over at Harry, leaned back against the spectator stand, legs partially spread, the erection still jutting out. Each lump in his scrotum hung loose, distinct. Harry gave a short, rapid, set of strokes, hand curled beneath his hard cock, while visibly gawking at Gia; he stopped, brought the palm to his lips, and blew across it toward her.

“Do you need the grand finale?” Tracy asked Gia.

It took a moment to see that the coach was staring at her, pointed to the stopwatch, for Gia to realize that her name had already been called, that she was supposed to be in the water. She took the few steps, up the platform, and jumped. She arched her hands as she dove, and entered the water. It was the first time she had swam, really swam, since the last season, and the first time she had tried it without the swimsuit. This time, there was no barrier between her and the water, and she felt it move by every part. Her clitoris felt the change the most, it was a bit out, in the current, her hard nipples felt the coolness too.

Lap after lap, she crawled as fast as she could. It was a rare second chance, not enough people to properly field a team. She had missed the proper tryouts, they were the same day as her father’s funeral and she didn’t think about asking for a waiver. She likely could have, she was on the team last year. She finished the laps, pushed herself out of the pool. Harry was still there, curled right hand curled around his hard cock. Nate, meanwhile, had his right hand beneath the waistband, busy wanking off the pole beneath the tent.

“I think that was good,” Harry said.

“Watch this,” Gia said.

She hadn’t practiced in over six months, but still, Gia wanted to show it to Harry. She went to the diving platform, leaned over, and supported herself upside down, a handstand on the platform. Feet into the air, straight, she saw Harry upside down, her eyes focused on those handsome loose testicles hanging there. She parted her legs, spread them, as Harry watched. Nate kept watch too, still wanked beneath his green shorts.

“Cool,” Harry said.

Gia could feel the air seeping in between, into the vagina, when she also felt her bladder squeeze faster than she could stop it. Her yellow jet formed, squirted upward, forward, to fall onto the pool deck.

“Oh…” Nate muttered.

Gia glanced, saw a hint of snot oozing out the front of Nate’s swim shorts, Nate blushed.

“Keep it up,” Harry said as he came closer to her. Her pee hit his hard cock.

“You would love it,” Gia said.

“Of course,” Harry said.

Gia stared at his hairy balls, hanging loose, as Harry watched a bit closer. Gia waited until she finished peeing before she moved to let herself down, to her knees still on the platform, her head faced the water.

“Now?” Harry asked, as she felt the tap of his erection against the lace to her folds between her legs.

“I’ve got another swim,” Gia said.

Harry went back to the spectator stand. Gia glanced at her coach, took another jump, and swam more laps. Hand over hand, Gia climbed through the water, again, pushed herself out. Harry clapped.

“Impressive, given that you were supposed to do the backstroke,” Tracy said to Gia.

“Oh,” Gia muttered.

Gia glanced at the coach, he shook his head.

“I’ll talk with him,” Nate said, “You’ve got the right credentials, do the backstroke in a minute.”

Nate walked over to the coach.

“He just wants to gawk,” Gia said as she bent over.

“He’s got good taste,” Harry said, “I couldn’t swim … I mean not like this. Sure, I know enough to not drown, to get somewhere, but it’s not as good as I see here.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Gia said.

“You’re up,” Nate said, coming back, two thumbs up.

“Good luck,” Harry said.

Gia got back into the pool, on her back. Her vulva, on display to the two boys waiting, watching. At least she knew she couldn’t drown with them keeping an eye on her. Gia moved her arms, one after another, kicking, as she propelled herself, her tits out of the water.

Lap after lap, she’d glance as she turned, caught the eyes looking at her, and she enjoyed the blushing from each boy there. She wasn’t nobody, because here, they noticed her. Here, each nipple would invade their dreams. With Harry there, she had more confidence than she ever had by herself. It was daring at first, now, pleasurable, even though these were her classmates, each one knowing that she kept it smooth, partially for Harry, but also for herself. Boys kept blushing, kept shielding their swim shorts, except of Harry, as Harry let his hard erection fly with the pride she knew he had.

“Here.”

She had stopped, Harry was on his knees, butt on his feet, near the edge. His hard erection jutted upward, the foreskin still retracted, the testicles loose between his legs, while his arm was outstretched to her, offered her a hand. Gia reached up, took it. Harry pulled, and she came up, a bit. Gia leaned over, brought her tongue to his slit, licked the glans around his hard shaft. Snickers, giggles, catcalls followed, as she tasted the bit of sweat, the tang of his urine; not her choice of dessert, not overpowering, simply reassurance.

Harry’s arm pulled again, this time, she came out of the pool, though still on her hands and knees.

“You did great,” Nate said, two thumbs up, while he surveyed her butt, up in the air.

“She’s mine,” Harry said.

“You’re a bit…possessive,” Gia replied.

“He’s one flirt away from not controlling himself,” Harry whispered.

“No, he can manage,” Gia said.

Gia’s left hand reached back, spread her buttocks even more. Harry, though, laid down as he pulled her forward, over him, until his cock lined up.

“Jealous?” Gia asked, her eyes looking straight down at his bottle green.

“Letting them know what we do,” Harry said, “Besides, you’ve finished all the laps, right?”

“Think so,” Gia said, “Remember, gotta last the night.”

Gia let Harry pull her hips downward. Nate watched as Harry’s hard cock started to push inward.

“I wouldn’t be a friend if I didn’t recommend a room,” Nate said.

Gia felt the warmth invade inward, lending heat to the cool interior, still filled with a bit of the chlorinated pool water.

“Right here?” Tracy asked.

“Nah, just a tease,” Gia said.

Gia let Harry get in several jousts before she lifted with her knees, his cock slid back out.

“Not finished,” Nate said.

“He gets to finish—later,” Gia said, “In the meanwhile, we play.”

“How did you do?” Harry asked.

“Won’t know until the team meeting,” Nate said, “She’s got my vote, so long as she swims starkers.”

“First time is free,” Gia said as she rolled over onto her butt, “Next time, we’ll see how the water goes with you.”

“She means she wants to see you swim starkers,” Harry said to Nate.

Nate blushed, glanced left and right, before he pushed his shorts down, revealed his circumcised softness below the blond pubic hair, base of his balls were directly above her.

“Like that?” Nate asked.

“Just remember to behave yourself,” Harry said.

“That sounded like a threat,” Nate said.

“A reminder,” Harry said,

“You don’t own me,” Gia said to Harry.

“Of course not,” Harry said, “We’ll talk about it later.”

Nate teased his testicles, touched his penis, and watched her face as he stiffened, until he glanced upward. Quickly, he restored his shorts before the coach’s eyes moved back to them.

“Think your tryout is over,” Nate said.

Gia glanced at the coach, who nodded.

“Come,” Gia said to Harry as she stood.

Harry stood. Gia walked over, grabbed her bookbag, and they left the pool; Gia stopped, pressed Harry’s back against the wall.

“What did you mean by what you said?” Gia demanded.

“You’ll tease, even play with him, that’s fine,” Harry said, “I just don’t quite trust him not to harm you, dunno why, just don’t.”

“Don’t go scaring them away,” Gia said.

“So long as people respect you, treat you well,” Harry said, “There’s no argument from me. I love you, and if a reminder is what it takes to keep you safe, I’ll do so.”

Gia sighed.

“Maybe it’s school and everything else,” Harry said, “I do love you, and I like helping you tease him. You did a pretty good job of that.”

“You are starkers,” Gia said.

“So are you,” Harry said, “I’d rather be naked with you than anywhere else; it’s the way we’re supposed to be together, right?”

Gia knew this naked boy likely meant well.

“It came across wrong,” Gia said.

“Then I’m sorry,” Harry replied, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Can I trust that Sirius would bite his balls off if Nate did go too far?” Gia asked.

“Likely yes,” Harry said, “Ow…ow…ouch. It hurts just thinking about it.”

Gia smiled. Harry reflected the grin.

“It was fun teasing him,” Gia said.

“Yep,” Harry replied.

“Lets get a bite to eat, tease somebody else,” Gia said, “Any ideas?”

“The Urban Wok ,” Harry said, “Um…never mind, something else.”

“What’s wrong with The Urban Wok ?” Gia asked.

“Nothing,” Harry said, “Maybe…Ash and Ant might be going there.”

“You brought him along?” Gia asked.

“He kinda asked, and if he’s seeing Ant—” Harry said.

“Not guaranteed with how Ant is about boyfriends,” Gia said, “Still, lets see if they’re there.”

Gia grabbed Harry’s hand, they walked. Gia glanced at the hard erection, the foreskin retracted, as it swung with Harry’s gait. Gia liked seeing it, of course, but also knew it made Harry slightly more agreeable when it wanted to be used. Besides, while there weren’t any more surprises left to his cock, it was still fun teasing Harry, and he grinned as he played along. She glanced at his testicles, they showed what she felt, having contracted up a bit tighter, as a bit of a chill was creeping through the wind.

They cut across through the small foot mall, onto Market. Harry smiled, waved, at the people glancing at him and his hard erection. Harry paused and stopped, waited as a silver haired older lady took a moment to look him over, from the bare chest down across the erection to the feet.

“Yours?” the lady asked Gia.

“Yes,” Gia said.

“Needs a bigger leash,” the lady said before she moved along.

Harry and Gia moved, walked. They came to The Urban Wok and entered. Gia immediately saw the source of the commotion.

Andy was on her back, on a table, starkers, with her legs spread open, knees bent with her feet on the edge of the table. Ash, sporting his hard small erection that was jutting out, was leaning inward, his tongue licking along the lace of Andy’s vagina. Andy squirted a bit more honey out of the packet, rubbed it onto her fourteen year old clitoris, and Ash brought his tongue to it.

“So, you found the restaurant,” Harry said.

“Duh,” Ash said between licks.

“Have you ordered?” Gia asked.

“No, waiting for you,” Andy said, “He said you’re paying.”

“I—” Harry muttered, as Ash shook his head.

Gia grabbed a menu from underneath Andy, sat. Harry sat to the other side. Both Harry and Gia watched, studied the lace, the pussy on the table right in front of them, with its hard clitoris pointed upward. Ash stood up, pushed with his hands on the table, lifted himself higher as he flexed his hips, fast. Harry’s hand clasped over Andy’s vulva, Ash’s hard cock slid across the back of the hand.

“Easy, easy,” Harry said, “Girls are delicate.”

“I can take it,” Andy said, “Besides, you’re staring at it.”

“You made it the fucking centerpiece,” Harry said.

“His one redeeming quality,” Andy said, “The honey idea was good.”

“I need to take—” Ash started.

“Are you ready to order?” asked a short, elderly, Asian man, with olive skin.

Gia thought the timing was impeccable, for being starkers rarely cured all ills. She poked at the menu and read what was beneath it.

“Mongolian Beef,” Gia said, “Make that two, one for him.” She pointed to Harry.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“Sesame chicken,” Andy said.

Ash, though, his face was white, his mouth closed. Gia ran her finger across the menu.

“He’ll have Sweet and Sour Pork,” Gia said.

“To drink?” the man asked.

“Water, all of use,” Gia said.

“Tea will be up shortly,” the man said, before he left.

“That was weird,” Andy said, “Normally I’d get told off.”

“I’m taking a shit,” Ash said as he made for the restroom. Harry followed.

“A day in the life of a slut,” Andy said.

“You’re not a slut,” Gia said.

“I wasn’t referring to me,” Andy retorted.

“Excuse…” Gia thought better of what she was about to say, instead, she figured it was better to try to talk to Andy. Gia’s eyes focused on the hard clitoris, reaching up from where soft pubic hair was attempting to come in. Her right fingers moved upward. “Mind?”

“Go ahead,” Andy said.

Gia’s fingers hit Andy’s skin, marched across to the clitoris. Gia rubbed the hard point, caressed it as Andy breathed deep. Andy’s fingers rubbed her nipples. Gia’s left fingers took over on the clitoris, while her right began to rub the lace around the vulva. Her fingers slipped inward, felt the tension and release.

“I love Harry,” Gia said,

Gia’s fingers felt inward a moment.

“Do _not_ tell anybody, not my Mum, not even your boyfriend,” Andy said.

It took Gia a moment as it was something she wasn’t even thinking about. She studied right below Andy’s belly button, she couldn’t tell. Andy showed no signs of pregnancy. Gia figured it better to not stress over it, brought her fingers back out to rub closer to the opening.

“We’re steady so I know he’d keep it too,” Gia said.

“You’re super confident in him?” Andy asked.

“He’s all about love, it’s unlimited,” Gia said, “It strengthens us to be starkers, together, to let it just happen, whether it’s in the bedroom or at the swimming pool or in the restaurant. Plus, it’s fun to tease all the boys.”

Andy laughed.

“And,” Gia said, “It’s nice to keep an eye on that cock—”

“I’ll give you that,” Andy said, “It’s gorgeous.”

“Tough for him to lie with that hanging out,” Gia said.

“I’ve seen plenty of boys try to cover their trousers,” Andy said, “Yet, your boyfriend lets it fly.”

“It works,” Gia said.

“Give you that,” Andy said, “Sorry if I’ve been so rude—Richard, he just sticks his nose into everything.”

“You’ll miss him when he’s eventually gone,” Gia said, “Harry and I know what that’s like, he never knew his parents; we’re both orphans, all we have is each other, maybe that’s what makes it stick better? Maybe if Richard were my brother, I’d see him like you, instead, he’s a generous friend.”

“Friend with _benefits_ , you mean,” Andy said.

“Sure, his dick got damaged as a baby, but it still works,” Gia said, “But not on me, no, it’s me and Harry…well, I’ve toyed with Harry’s two best friends too.”

“With honey?” Andy asked.

“Just Harry on that,” Gia said, “It’s my way of getting him to eat.”

“Aw,” Andy said, “He does seem thin.”

“If eating off my kitty is what it takes, then I’ll do it,” Gia said.

“You’ll do just about anything,” Andy said.

“For my friends, yes,” Gia said, “How long has this orgasm been going on?”

“A bit,” Andy said, “Can you teach Ash to do this?”

“Teach him,” Gia said, “You can’t expect a boy to just get it right on the first try—”

“Get what right?” Harry asked as him and Ash returned.

“How to handle your todger,” Andy said.

“So you’re her boyfriend now?” Ash asked as he sat, right leg beneath his left, at the table. Ash leaned in, watched Gia’s fingers closely.

Gia wanted the topic changed, glanced at Harry’s hard erection a foot away from the table.

“Andy wants you to…you know,” Gia said to Harry.

“Huh?” Harry muttered.

“You’re hard,” Andy said.

“Fuck her,” Ash said.

“Harry’s slow,” Andy said.

“It’s wide open and right there,” Ash said to Harry, as he pointed to Andy’s vagina inches away, “Do I need to spell it out to you? Andy wants your dick, wants you to bang her.”

“Go ahead,” Gia said to Harry.

Harry stepped closer, worked his tip between Gia’s fingers, threaded it into Andy. Harry bent slightly, massaged Andy’s breasts before he began to drill. Ash kept his eyes on the sliding cock, with the dark pubic hair moving it as the shaft went across Andy’s skin between Gia’s right fingers. Andy’s eyes focused on Harry. Gia, though, kept her eyes on Andy’s face as it caught Harry’s infectious grin.

“Sorry,” Harry muttered.

“I told you we should’ve pissed,” Ash said as Harry’s dick pumped.

Andy’s vulva dripped, Gia smelled it as Harry did what they occasionally liked to do, he was taking a leak as he held still for a moment, inside Andy.

“Turn about is fair play,” Andy said.

Gia glanced, where Ash was also looking, the trickles, the flow along Harry’s shaft, the shower from his loose testicles hit the carpeted floor. She felt the warm liquid across her fingers. A glance at Harry’s eyes betrayed his surprise. Even when Harry had managed to trigger this response in Gia when they both pissed, this time was different as Andy’s cervix was closed, protecting the baby to be. Harry quickly returned to drilling, and sent the suction of his glans against Andy’s super wet vagina to their ears. A moment later, Harry held his cock, his pelvis tightly against Andy’s, his testicles rested against her as they drained, his cock pumped the orgasm. Harry pulled out a wet penis, the glans exposed, and some semen clinging to his slit.

“How was it?” Gia asked Andy.

“I know why you two will never stop,” Andy replied.

“I’ve trained him well,” Gia said, “And he’s loyal, so I know he’ll be there tomorrow.”

Harry pushed on the table, climbed over Ash, and sat.

“I still need to take that piss,” Ash said.

“Go ahead,” Harry said, pointed.

Ash grinned as he got up onto the table, squatted over Andy, so his butt was over the edge, penis aimed to her. His balls hung freely as he aimed his penis. Gia held the flaps open, and Ash began to piss. Ash had good aim, it poored into Andy’s already full pocket, and it promptly drained.

“Are you ready to eat?” asked the elderly man as he set down the tray with plates of food onto the portable stand.

“Ash,” Gia said.

“Yeah,” Ash said, moving off the table to sit next to Harry.

Andy moved, sat next to Gia, across from Harry. The man put the plates down on the stained table cloth.

“At least you’re picking up the check,” Andy said to Harry.

“No check, just eat and leave,” the elderly man said, “Quickly.”

Gia took the chopsticks, ate a bit of the beef herself. She grabbed a bit of the pork, dipped it into the sauce, and brought it up to Ash’s lips, he ate. Harry glared a little bit, but ate a quarter of the plate. Gia tried a bit of the sesame chicken, let the infusion of the tangy sauce flow over her tongue. Andy sipped at the tea, worked her plate. Ash helped himself to the rest of Harry’s portion of the beef, and sampled the chicken.

“Guess not everybody likes us fucking on their tables,” Andy said.

“We peed on the table,” Ash said as he sipped tea. He glanced at Gia. “Except for you.”

“I just peed at the pool,” Gia replied. It became clear just how relaxed Harry had gotten her, to casually discuss her body like this, it wouldn’t have happened prior to meeting Harry, to simply advertise it.

Harry grabbed a fortune cookie, opened it, and read.

Trying times are ahead. It will be messy, but you will persevere.

“Odd,” Andy said, before she read hers.

Enjoy the moment and live, for nobody has unlimited life.

Ash opened his up, read it.

Pain, courage, go together, help you overcome your adversity.

Gia read hers.

Uncertainty and doubt may cloud your mind, but trust in your heart and believe, it’s the only way.

“I do have homework to do,” Harry groaned.

Gia stood up. Ash got up, let Harry out.

“We’ll be along later,” Ash said.

Harry and Gia left The Urban Wok .

“You insisted I fuck her,” Harry said.

“Look at it from her perspective,” Gia said, “They were two, then her brother brought us in, it can make her feel…less. It’s good to give her some attention.”

“That was a bunch of attention,” Harry said.

“She needs it,” Gia said, “Lets trust it’ll help her.”

“And I didn’t even have a chance at a condom,” Harry said.

“I won’t cover why,” Gia said, “Simply put, you can’t get her pregnant, not right now…timing.”

“Oh,” Harry said.

Gia felt it was better divulging Andy’s pregnancy.

* * *

Harry hesitated, the next morning, in the Hospital Wing, as Madam Pomfrey watched. His trousers were down, his todger aimed. A moment more, and he felt the pain, the burning as the urine began to flow into the glass bowl between them.

“You said it was … burning?” Madam Pomfrey asked, “How long?”

“Was fine yesterday,” Harry said, “It started this morning.”

“Thank you for seeing me immediately,” Madam Pomfrey said, with her wand aimed. She reached, felt the softness of Harry’s todger, while the wand moved along the ridge beneath. “Any guesses?”

“Got something,” Harry said, “Right?”

“Yes,” Madam Pomfrey said, “If I’m right, this will tell, come.”

Harry pulled his trousers up, followed as she carried the glass bowl into her office, put it on a bench. She reached into a cabinet, pulled out a small flask. She removed the stopper, added a drop in. Yellow of the urine turned into a vivid, rich, purple.

“After all those examinations last month, you finally have something,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Chlamydia. Fortunately, I have the right potion for you. I also need to see your girlfriend, as this is sexually transmitted.”

“She’ll be in tonight,” Harry said, “It’ll have to do.”

Madam Pomfrey took out two shot glasses, a green bottle, and one bottle of Firewhiskey.

“Have you had this?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“I can’t say yes,” Harry said.

She poured one shot glass of the Firewhiskey, and the other with the green potion.

“Here,” she said as she handed Harry the Firewhiskey.

“Nice cure,” Harry said before he gulped it down.

“It simply makes this taste better,” Madam Pomfrey said, handing him the green potion.

Harry closed his eyes, held his breath, as he poured it into his mouth. The potion slithered fast, faster than his urge to vomit it out. A busted toilet would be better than what had just gone down his throat.

“Is that it?” Harry asked.

“I’ll check you again this afternoon when you bring your girlfriend in,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“Later,” Harry said.

“Thank you for being responsible,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Harry grabbed his bookbag, left the Hospital Wing. Harry went up to the third floor, approached the crowd of first years gathering outside the Charms classroom. Harry surveyed the crowd, went away from it to the single kid resting against the corner of the nook.

“Ash,” Harry said, motioning.

Ash followed Harry to the next classroom’s nook.

“Yeah, it’s what I thought,” Harry said, softly, “So, go to the Hospital Wing at lunch, alright?”

Ash nodded.

“I’ve got class, but I’ll see you this afternoon,” Harry said.

Ash nodded. Harry left.

Gong!

Harry rushed down the flights of stairs, toward the ground floor, when Peeves let out a cackle. A stair, just ahead, rose fast, right in front of Harry’s foot. Harry tripped, flew downward.

Laughter

Passing fourth years laughed. Harry recovered, went down, a bit more carefully, and came to the greenhouse with the other sixth years lined up.

“Dunno why you bother,” Finnigan said.

“Ignore him,” Ron suggested to Harry.

Though, both Ron and Hermione had grins, as Hermione had her back against Ron’s stomach, while Ron’s hands were down the front of her trousers. Motions beneath the cloth made it evident that Ron was fingering and stimulating her.

“Good morning to you too,” Harry said.

“It _is_ a good morning,” Hermione said, softly.

“Get a room!” Parvati Patil snapped.

“Bug off!” Ron retorted.

“Good morning sixth years,” Madam Sprout said, “It took a bit longer to find my key, and it involved a discussion of dragon food.”

“Wonder why,” Ron said.

“It means she misplaced her key and had to ask Hagrid,” Hermione said.

Madam Sprout pushed the key in, unlocked the door.

“Careful when you enter,” Madam Sprout said, “The Venomous Tentacula are just seedlings, so their bites are not fatal.”

They all entered the greenhouse.

* * *

“Did you get the message?” Nate asked Gia as she poured the beaker of green liquid into the funnel with the filter.

Nate started the stop watch, before he returned his eyes to her dress shirt, with nipples that pushed outward on the cloth.

“Barely,” Gia said, “Haven’t even had the chance to tell Harry.”

“Your boyfriend?” Nate asked.

“Yeah, him,” Gia said.

“It’s provisional, but you’re on,” Nate said, “I was surprised you didn’t tryout in August.”

“Too many things were going on,” Gia said, “It … honestly, it slipped the mind, with my father’s funeral and all.”

“Sorry,” Nate said.

“It makes Harry all the more important,” Gia said, “So, he’ll find me.”

“I know he doesn’t go to Smeltings next door,” Nate said as he quickly adjusted his trousers, “So, where is he going to school?”

“A ways away,” Gia said as she glanced at pole Nate was trying to conceal beneath his trousers, “He commutes. You’ve got a stiffy.”

“Please don’t call it out,” Nate said, “Yes! And yes, I do wanna see you in a swimsuit.”

“Shit!” Gia exclaimed. It occurred to her, her swimsuit had last been in her old bedroom, in the house that was demolished last spring, and she didn’t have a replacement.

“Or none,” Nate suggested, smile on his face.

A tryout was one thing, but Gia wasn’t certain about being on the swim team starkers, however, she’d be willing to try. Harry’s antics made it simply more comfortable anyways.

“Come to think about it,” Nate said, “I don’t think a swimsuit is technically required, just you can’t be wearing street clothes.”

“Ever considered becoming a solicitor?” Gia asked.

They kept working on their Chemistry experiment, until the bell. Nate turned in their report. Snuffles and Tracy accompanied them as they left the school.

“So, you’re on the team,” Tracy said, “Welcome back.”

“Provisional, it’s not confirmed,” Nate said, “The league must agree.”

“Even if not, I could still practice,” Gia said.

“I fail to see the point,” Nate replied.

They came to the brick hall, entered.

“Suppose you’re going to—” Tracy said.

“What’s wrong with skin?” Gia asked as she pulled her shirt up.

“I second it,” Nate said before he went into the boys’ room.

“Of course, of course!” Tracy exclaimed.

Gia walked straight, to the pool deck. She glanced over at Coach Andre Hampton in the corner, before she lowered her trousers. She smirked as she realized she stripped with nearly the same efficiency as Harry would. Nate blushed as he entered, in his green shorts with the yellow stripe.

“Nice,” Nate said.

Gia’s left hand, out of habit, touched her clitoris, rubbed it a moment. Nate blushed even deeper, rearranged the front of his loose swim trunks.

“Please be considerate on meets,” Nate said, “I don’t want to be having to worry in the tights.”

“Oh, that’d be even more fun,” Gia said, “Especially when I have to piss.”

Gia walked over, jumped into the pool. Hand over hand, she began to crawl her way through the water. Two laps, and Nate was standing at the end, the only other one in her lane. Tracy was two lanes over.

“Mind?” Nate said, “It’s cramping my style.”

Nate lowered his trunks, hooked it beneath his scrotum and showed the hard erection that jutted outward, his eyes on her.

“Be careful with that,” Gia remarked.

Nate pushed off, swam in a crawl to the deep end, returned; his trunks had already worked to expose his buttocks.

“Better but not cutting it,” Nate said as he dropped his trunks to his knees.

Gia pushed off, swam down, back. She touched the wall next to where Nate was standing, and swam down, back. She glanced down, where Nate’s hand was curled, and he was busily wanking on the hard cock beneath the water.

“Gia!” Harry said as he ran into the pool. Harry was still in his school slacks, shirt, tie, and jumper.

“What’s up?” Gia asked.

“Hold still,” Nate said.

Gia glanced down as Nate relaxed, the squirt of white leaked out of his hard dick.

“Careful,” Harry said, “How long can your seed linger in there?”

Harry reached, grabbed Gia’s hand, pulled her out. Harry brought her to the corner with her bookbag, Snuffles laid beneath it.

“What’s wrong?” Gia asked.

“You know me complaining about my todger this morning?” Harry asked.

“You had it looked at,” Gia said, “Right?”

“Yep, it’s—I can’t pronounce it,” Harry said, “Ash had it, but neither Ron nor Hermione. Madam Pomfrey wants to check you too, and my guess is you’ve got it. Ready?”

“I was going to get more swimming in, first,” Gia said, “Can it wait that long?”

“Guess so,” Harry said, “Just be careful, you’re probably contagious.”

Gia glanced at her classmates swimming in the pool, with Nate chilling out watching them.

“Just a moment,” Gia said.

Gia went over to Nate, knelt.

“What’s up?” Nate asked.

“Need to check up on something—health,” Gia said.

“Already?” Nate asked.

“I’m supposed to get a medical, aren’t I?” Gia asked.

“Lousy timing,” Nate said.

“You’ll live,” Gia replied.

Gia went over to the coach, grabbed the sheet of paper that she had neglected to grab earlier, returned to Harry.

“What’s that?” Harry asked.

“I need a medical,” Gia said, showing the form, “I assume Madam Pomfrey is qualified, right?”

“Snuffles, we’ll be back later,” Harry said.

Harry escorted Gia into the boys’ locker room, into the empty shower stall. He glanced around, took out his wand, and activated his Portkey. They landed in the dormitory.

“Here,” Harry said, as he rummaged in Ron’s trunk, pulled out a few things, “And we’ll have to figure out Ant too.”

“Her?” Gia asked.

Harry spun around. “She—well, it’s sexual,” Harry said.

“Aw.” Gia understood.

* * *

Finnigan watched Harry and Gia cross the Gryffindor Common Room.

“How quickly people forget!” Finnigan said, “That bloke killed a dozen—”

“Dumbledore believes him,” Neville said, sitting at the same table.

“What’d you get for this?” Justin Finch–Fletchley said, “How is the cuckoo always wanting to be a clock? Spell to encourage it?”

“Started with chrono—I forget,” Macmillan said, “Potter ought to be one, he killed twelve, that’d make for a clock, a dozen skulls.”

“Speaking of clocks, I promised Luna…later,” Neville said. Neville got up.

“At least you’re safe, you’re Gryffindor,” Finch–Fletchley said.

“I got assaulted,” Finnigan said, “Good old Longbottom doesn’t care, he’ll forgive.”

“I simply do not believe Harry’s going dark,” Neville said.

“It always start small,” Finnigan said, “Mark my words, Potter’s going to get worse. I want him gone.”

“What do you fucking plan to do about it?” Neville asked.

“Dunno,” Finnigan said.

“Well, catch ya later,” Neville said.

Neville grabbed his bookbag, left.

* * *

“Funny that Madam Pomfrey thought we’d need an exam,” Ron said that evening in the library.

“She’s just trying to be cautious,” Hermione said as she read over Treatise on the Killing Curse .

“Get on the table, I’ll give you an exam,” Ron said.

“Sure you’d love to,” Hermione replied.

“I’d be thorough, very thorough,” Ron said, “You know, inspect everything…just in case.”

“We’re in the library,” Hermione reminded Ron.

“Then it’s not a problem, here—” Ron tapped the table.

“I approve,” Harry said as he came in. Gia with him.

“She’s researching Killing Curses,” Ron said.

“Just trying to figure this out,” Hermione said.

“Professor Dumbledore gave it to me,” Harry said as he sat down.

“The best advice for not getting killed by one is…get this, not being hit by it in the first place,” Hermione said.

“He’s not that daft,” Harry said as he took the book from Hermione.

“All the rest of it deals with the anatomy of it, the curse,” Hermione said, “What it is and isn’t doing, and what mustn’t be hit to stay alive.”

“I’ll have to read it,” Harry said.

“Word of warning, it was written two centuries ago,” Hermione said, “Some testing was done in there, not everybody survived.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Harry said.

“You said we’d go back, right away,” Gia said, “Swimming pool has hours.”

“Swimming?” Ron said, “Just walk outside.”

“It’s always raining here,” Harry said, glancing out the window at the storm, “I mean, it was cloudy there, but here—is the castle enchanted? You know, to keep the muggles away?”

“Hadn’t thought of that,” Hermione said, “I know they’d see a ruin—present company excluded.”

“Yep,” Gia said, as she showed off the ring on her finger, Harry’s ring.

“We need to get back,” Harry said, “Later.”

Harry and Gia walked into the restricted section, ducked behind a bookcase.

“And you’ve got that book memorized,” Ron said.

Hermione smiled.

“It’s not an easy question,” Hermione said, “In fact, it makes every other essay we’ve ever had, child’s play. Everybody has a pet theory on how it’d be protected against, and, well, Lily Potter was the first to succeed, not for herself, but for Harry.”

“And who last checked out that book?” Ron asked.

“Tom Riddle,” Hermione said.

“So, you’re suggesting we check every book’s checkout card?” Ron asked.

“That’s a splendid idea,” Hermione said.

“You’re brilliant,” Ron said.

Ron and Hermione went over to the restricted section, began to pull books.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those that have commented, kudo'ed, subscribed, and/or bookmarked the story.


	32. Chemistry

Boom!

Lightning brought Ron to a lucid state Friday morning. Hermione, on her side, her left shoulder against his right arm pit, his arm against her back with his hand on her right bicep. Her breasts rested against his upward thigh as both feet were close to his buttocks, his knees in the air. Her left fingers explored his butt as she kept sleeping, they moved around, felt, pushed into the anus bared beneath the covers. Her right hand stayed on his sack, his balls within that pouch.

Pfffpt!

Ron felt some pity, her fingers were in his anus, and he had just farted over them.

Creak!

Ron tried to ignore it, however, footsteps followed.

Klomp! Klomp!

“Harry!” Ron said, guessing.

Swoosh!

Quickly, in a fell swoop, Ron’s curtains and covers were torn away, revealing Hermione there. Dean Thomas glared at her right hand taking refuge beneath Ron’s scrotum. Hermione’s eyes opened, watched.

“How many times do I have to tell you? She’s not to be in here!” Thomas snapped.

“It’s _my_ bed!” Ron said, “Kiss my dick and apologize!”

Thomas glanced at Ron’s crotch. His balls showing up, the soft todger resting in the red pubic hair.

“No!” Thomas snapped.

“Then let me be,” Ron said, “If you’re so concerned—check on Seamus!”

“He is not acting like a jerk,” Thomas said, “You are. I’ll see to getting you a detention, because I’m the one that’s supposed to be keeping order.”

“Then do it,” Ron said, “And buzz off.”

Hermione’s left hand cradled the lumps of his bollocks. Her right held the todger, upward, her eyes focused where the slit could be seen where the foreskin didn’t quite cover it. She watched it as it stiffened in front of her, the erection jutted upward.

“Doesn’t grow old, does it?” Ron asked.

“Strangely, no,” Hermione replied.

Ron felt her left fingers return to his anus, pushed inward, and massaged, while her right stroked. Ron felt the stimulation, breathed deeply, until his cock complied. Ron felt the tension, the release. Hermione watched the sticky white semen surge up, pour out onto his abdomen.

“Thank you,” Ron said.

“Thought you’d last longer,” Hermione replied as her finger began to paint the sticky white across his abdomen.

“With you?” Ron said, “Thought you wanted it to—you know.”

“I’ll play along, say it was deliberate,” Hermione said.

“Harry’ll be along shortly,” Ron said.

They got up.

“How do we plan to deal with them—prying?” Hermione asked.

“Dunno,” Ron said as they entered the shower, together.

“We try to be nice and that’s shoved back into our faces,” Hermione said, “Yet, when anything bad happens, it flies around faster than a bad check in the mail—”

“Mail?” Ron said, “Muggle post, right?”

“Yes,” Hermione said as the hot and soapy water poured over her.

Ron’s hands worked her shoulders.

“Dunno about them,” Ron said, “You—I know just what to do with you.”

Hermione snorted. Ron reached around, held onto her breasts, held her close to him.

“You don’t give up, do you?” Hermione asked.

“Worry the moment I do,” Ron said as he craned his neck, kissed her on the cheek.

“Go a bit further,” Harry said as he entered the lavatory. Harry was starkers, went at an angle to the toilet.

“We already did,” Ron said.

“Oh,” Harry said, “Look, no pain.”

Harry gripped his penis. Both Ron and Hermione watched the yellow stream pour out.

“Good,” Hermione said, “How did you—?”

“Never mind,” Harry said, “You’ve got Arithmacy to get to, and I’ve got…another session with Dumbledore. Ron, haggle for some more Quidditch time, we’ve got four weeks to Slytherin.”

“We already got into trouble for monopolizing the field,” Ron said.

“Take all the downpours,” Harry said, “It’s not like we’ve got clothes to worry about.”

Harry left.

“He’s downright chipper,” Ron said.

“You can stay in there until lunch,” Hermione said as she got out of the shower.

“Food?” Ron said, “Breakfast, here we come!”

Ron marched fast out of the shower, dried himself before he reached his trunk.

“Meet you back in the common room,” Hermione said.

Hermione left the dormitory, while Ron dressed.

* * *

“So, what have you learned?” Professor Dumbledore asked as Harry sat down.

“I read the whole book, stuff of nightmares,” Harry said, “Gia got upset, but I calmed down enough after my run that we…erm…you know. It helped get the anxiety out, well, until I downed that half pot of coffee.”

“It is not a pleasant matter,” Professor Dumbledore said.

Harry took out his parchment.

“I did not find a way,” Harry said, “Obviously, my Mum was the first—but with me, not her.”

“Documented, yes,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Many witches and wizards have tried various defenses, but the best defense is to simply not get hit with it,” Harry said, “Claxby did extensive research on condemned prisoners in the late eighteenth century, and still stands as the best work on the subject. He’d amputate and perform the curse. If he struck the amputated limb, it may or may not kill the person. Strike the person, and, well, both would die, even if they already had been amputated.”

“Clayton Claxby was also the Ministry’s Chief Executioner of the time,” Professor Dumbledore said, “His methods were…”

“Atrocious,” Harry said, “He’d also employ demeantors, so if a soul got sucked out, but put back in after the curse, well, the soul itself was already destroyed. Claxby suspected it was in the soul, if you struck the soul, the person died.”

“And in your case?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“My mother’s sacrifice, the love, it kept it from striking my soul,” Harry said.

“Interesting theory,” Professor Dumbledore said, “That’s what it’ll have to remain because any proof would be ghastly to obtain.”

“Do you have any theories?” Harry asked.

“Some, but equally hard to prove,” Professor Dumbledore said, “However, I do have something that can assist, your friend Ronald thought to survey each book in the restricted section and study its checkout card. We know which books Tom found interesting enough to remove from the library, and I think we’ll make study of them.”

“Yeah,” Harry said as he wondered if he could just get Hermione in on this.

* * *

Ash watched the paper airplane soar from Gale’s hand, next to him, across the classroom. Professor Binns was oblivious and kept lecturing.

“That’s stupid!” snapped a girl, Easter Oakdale.

“At least I’m not some half–blood!” seethed another girl, with her brown hair in a bun on her head, a Slytherin first year, Hilda.

“You keep trying to spy on that sixth year,” Easter said, “A boy?”

“You mean—that no good?” Hilda said, “Overheard Draco, a real prat, that Potter.”

“He’s a stupid boy,” Easter said.

“I’ve taken the oath,” Hilda said, “He’ll get no assistance from me.”

“He’s a boy, doesn’t need it,” Easter replied.

“Potter seems alright,” Gale said.

“Stay away from him, if you want to live,” Hilda said, “That’s what I’ve heard.”

“Gryffindor, Gryffindor,” Easter said, “I’d hate to be a Gryffindor.”

Ash put his head onto his desk, tried to ignore it.

“Do something about it,” Gale said, with a push against Ash.

Ash shook his head, kept it down. He didn’t want to be drawn in, instead, he tried to focus on Professor Binns despite the lack luster speed.

“After the fall of Grindelwald, Albus Dumbledore was considered for the Merlin’s Staff,”1 Professor Binns said, “However, that nomination fell short by ten approvals, most notably when the United States Congress was unable to pass the resolution…”

Ash took his quill, began to doodle, crudely, on the parchment of his notebook. It blunted the edge on the lies being told about Harry Potter. Ash knew Harry to be a kind soul, but to defend Harry would require Ash to speak up, something Ash couldn’t do.

“Grindelwald was tried in Nuremberg and sentenced—”

“If I were in Gryffindor, I’d be watching my back,” Hilda said.

With Gale engaged in the duel of the words, he didn’t watch Ash. A crude picture, Ash knew, one of Harry’s hard cock, the foreskin extended to resemble a frog’s tongue, of Kermit eating a fly; eyes on the foreskin of the glans, wisps of pubic hair above, and the balls hanging below. Ash didn’t understand it himself, it felt as weird as Harry had found it, but Ash relaxed as he visualized it. Ash quickly turned the sheet before Gale could see, and started to doodle again, this time, the frog he longed to have again, Kermit, in one of the aquariums he had back home, assuming his Mum hasn’t thrown them and the critters, out.

Ring

“Study?” Gale asked.

Ash shook his head.

“Leave him be,” said Ruff, “Likely believes that nonsense that you can give away magic by pissing.”

Ash ignored them, left the first floor classroom, when he spied Ron and Harry walking past the end of the corridor, both carrying their Firebolts, their faded black Hogwarts cloaks pulled tight around them. Ash caught up and followed from a short distance.

“Simply put, I tried sketching it out,” Ron said, “I just need to try the moves out.”

“It’s either that or working on another essay,” Harry said, “I know Dumbledore means well, but it’s not exactly fun.”

“I know,” Ron said, “Good thing they didn’t come up with anything on the schedule for the morning.”

“I’m guessing they wanted us to study,” Harry said.

“Mind repeating that to Hermione?” Ron said, “DON’T!”

Harry and Ron laughed as they left the castle, into the rain. Ash pulled in his stomach for a moment, went out the front door too.

“Annoying having to walk,” Harry said.

“You’re doing something, maybe,” Ron said, “I don’t want to jinx it, alright? Last thing we need is for a teacher to ask.”

Harry unbuttoned his cloak.

“I definitely feel better,” Harry said.

“You couldn’t wait,” Ron said.

Harry turned on the path, Ash caught the glimpse, the side profile, of Harry’s penis, showing him to be wearing just the opened cloak and his pair of shoes. Ron loosened his cloak as he turned, the red pubic hair began to collect rain.

“It _is_ Friday,” Harry said.

“Going to dress this weekend?” Ron asked.

“Hope not,” Harry replied.

Harry removed his cloak as he came to the Quidditch Pitch, piled it beneath the stands, on top of his shoes. Ron did this too, and was starkers. Ash removed his shirt, dropped it next to the cloaks, when Ron spied Ash.

“What the—?” Ron stammered.

“Ash,” Harry said, “What are you doing?”

Ash, though, stripped all the way, piled his clothes and bookbag, into the sheltered pile, and felt the cold rain as his feet brought him onto the pitch.

“A shadow,” Ron said.

“I had wondered why Dumbledore suggested I bring this,” Harry said as he reached for his cloak. Harry pulled out the ragged Sorting Hat from the pocket, set it onto Ash’s head.

Ash felt the tendrils of the Sorting Hat probing inward into his mind, as he stood there, starkers, in the rain, his testicles pulling in while he started to stiffen.

“Do you wish to talk to them, or should I?” the Sorting Hat asked Ash.

“Harry, this is getting creepy,” Ron said.

Ash, though, studied Harry’s todger, as Harry held it up.

“Do I need to?” Harry asked, the penis aimed at Ash.

“Thought you wanted to piss from on high?” Ron asked.

“I do,” Harry said, until Ash nodded, “But he wants it, why?”

Ash stepped closer, watched as the yellow jet stream formed, hit him on the penis. Warmth spread across his shaft, he smelled the rising steam, and Ash relaxed.

“Ash now feels safe enough to speak,” the Sorting Hat said.

“Yeah,” Ash replied.

“Weird,” Ron said.

“We’re all weird here,” Harry said, still urinating, “If pissing on Ash is what it takes to help, I’ll take the leak.”

“It’s that you’re showing him your soft side Potter,” the Sorting Hat said, “I’m merely putting into words what he feels.”

“I do agree with Ron, it feels weird,” Harry said, “Would it help if Ron did this too?”

“Only if Weasley did it out of friendship and nothing further,” the Sorting Hat said.

“Does he really need this?” Ron asked.

“Yeah, he does,” Harry said.

Ron retracted his foreskin as he aimed, Ash smelled the extra golden urine hitting just above the penis, getting into his naval. Ash reached, felt the large testicles wrapped by Ron’s scrotum.

“My advice?” Harry said to Ron, “Just go with it, and let him lead. If exploring our privates is what it takes to help, let him explore.”

“So, I take it you’ve not said _**no**_ to him,” Ron said.

“Ash needs the confidence,” Harry said, “Right?”

Ash nodded.

“You were going to fly, right?” Ash asked.

“Just some moves for Quidditch,” Ron said.

“He can fly too,” Harry said, “I mean, you need to watch, right? Though we’d need another broom.”

“I’m _not_ lending him my broom,” Ron said, “Feel free to lend him yours.”

“Sure,” Harry said, “I might need to borrow yours.”

Ash held Harry’s Firebolt, put his leg over it. He felt the Cushioning Charm push on his butt as he began to hover. Quickly, the broom moved faster than Ash had expected, and he screamed.

“A bit of assistance,” the Sorting Hat said to Ash.

Ash pulled back, slowed down, while the rain went over his back. It was cold, but fun to let his hard cock jut forward as he flew; wave after wave of his dry orgasm permeated throughout him, and Ash felt good, really good as he took two laps around the entire pitch.

“Good work,” Harry said as Ash landed.

“Now that this group of Stiffy Anonymous has convened,” Ron said, “Lets get to work on what we came for.”

Ash spent a moment, studied the end of Ron’s hard erection, eyes drawn to the small circle where the foreskin didn’t quite cover the tip, the slit visible beneath, wheres Harry’s was fully sheathed; all their balls were held as close as their scrotums would allow.

“He flew,” Harry said.

“Good, then he can help,” Ron said, “Ash, take this—” Ron reached down, handed Ash the Quaffle “—and fly—”

Ash flew as directed while they swapped off on brooms. Up, down, left, right, fast, slow, while holding the Quaffle or not. Ash appreciated being starkers while his clothes remained dry beneath the stands. Ron kept ducking beneath, took notes on some parchment as they all kept trying the moves that Ron was interested in, until they heard the bell from the castle.

“Time for lunch,” Ron said.

“Why bother?” Harry said, “Ash needs more assistance.”

“I don’t want Potions either,” Ron said, “But I’m not letting her attend, by herself.”

“This was fun,” Ash said, “Can we keep it up?”

“Wish we could,” Harry said, “I do need to take a dump.”

“It’s okay,” Ash said.

“I am _not_ taking a dump on you,” Harry said, as he pointed at Ash’s chest.

“That’d be gross,” Ash said, “Just thought you’d do it here, on the field, so you don’t have to go in.”

“I like your thinking,” Harry said, bending over.

“It’s the Quidditch Pitch!” Ron snapped as the brown sludge started to move.

Ash, though, watched a bit closer, as Harry’s butt defecated, the brown logs dropped to the grass; the rain quickly dissolved them. Harry walked, grabbed his cloak, his shoes.

“Fly back,” Ash said.

Ash stuffed his clothes into his bookbag, got onto the back of the Firebolt. Harry tossed the cloak over them both, and took off. Ron followed. And they made it back to Gryffindor Tower.

“A bit of flying?” Hermione asked as they entered through the window into the sixth years’ boys dormitory, “Starkers, figures.”

Ash ducked beneath Harry’s bed, and dressed.

* * *

Harry, Ron, and Hermione came down the steps to the Potions classroom. Finnigan gave a quick shove as he passed them.

“Bug off!” Ron snapped.

“Get bent,” Finnigan retorted.

“I expect sixth years to behave,” Professor Snape said as he came through, unlocked the classroom door.

They entered. Hermione took a spot next to Neville, while Harry and Ron took a different cauldron.

“She’s—” Ron said.

“Only pairs now,” Harry said, “Neville needs it, whereas us—”

“Get docked points,” Ron said, “Here it goes.”

“Take out your ingredients,” Professor Snape said, “I doubt anybody will get this right.”

Professor Snape waved his wand, the board revealed, Babbling Beverage .

“On the bright side, nobody can tell if it’s effective on sixth–year students,” Professor Snape said, “Begin.”

Ron brought over the jar of earwigs, put one onto the board. Harry moved fast with the mallet, smashed it, before he scraped it into the cauldron. Ron picked his nose, pulled the snot out, dropped it in.

“You get to drink it,” Ron said to Harry.

Steadily, they simmered, stewed, and added the ingredients in the cauldron, the brew deepening its orange color while the flames lapped beneath the pewter.

“An exercise in futility to check,” Professor Snape said as he went over to Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch–Fletchley’s cauldron, “Orange is the proper color.” Professor Snape ladled up the deep red potion.

“Now!” Finnigan said to Malfoy.

Malfoy flicked his finger at the extra beetle eye laying on his table, the wand aimed, guided the beetle eye, until it dropped into Harry and Ron’s cauldron. Quickly, in the moment that it took Professor Snape to get there, the ladle revealed the deep blue color.

“This would likely be fatal to ingest,” Professor Snape said, “Forty points from Gryffindor.”

“They’re baiting us,” Ron said to Harry, “Don’t fall for it.”

Professor Snape glared before he moved over to ladle Hermione and Neville’s perfect orange potion.

“Twenty points for cheating,” Professor Snape said.

“Hold it,” Harry retorted to Ron.

Professor Snape moved over to Malfoy’s cauldron.

“Finally, a viable potion,” Professor Snape said, “Fifty points to Slytherin.”

Harry began to glare at Professor Snape.

“He’s not worth it,” Ron said to Harry.

* * *

“Hi there,” Harry said to Ash as he entered the sixth year boys’ dormitory late that afternoon.

Ash stood there, starkers, and kept painting on Kirkburton’s Sensitizing Ointment , brush underneath his foreskin. Harry removed his wet Quidditch robes, tossed them onto the floor, and crossed starkers over to Ash. Ash cupped Harry’s tense scrotum, felt the coldness dissipate as the sack loosened, and Harry’s dick grew hard.

Ash knew it wasn’t right, to hold Harry’s balls like this, though he was grateful Harry had come to accept it. Ash’s fingers plied inward, felt the oblong lumps, with the tubes that went upward. These were Harry’s bollocks, not something that Ash really desired, but instead, found comforting, soothing when Hogwarts otherwise felt alien. Ash knew that Harry had reservations, misgivings, but put those aside to trust Ash in return.

“Let’s get moving,” Harry said.

“Of course,” Ash said.

Ash put the cap with its brush back in the jar that was less than half full. Put it into his bookbag, which he grabbed. Harry took out the Portkey, activated it, and Ash touched it. A distinctive pull behind the naval, and they returned to Noigate.

“Glad you’re finding that useful,” Harry said as they landed.

“It’s useful,” Ash replied, thinking of how many times he’s made use of it that week, his dick has been becoming more and more sensitive to pumping dry orgasms into him. He ran his hand along Harry’s hard cock. “Later.”

Ash opened the bedroom door, went over to the other one.

“Took your time,” Andy said.

“Worth the trip,” Ash said as he lifted the blanket from her.

Andy studied Ash’s penis, watched it stiffen while he studied her, also starkers, with her tender tits and excited nipples.

“So you do like what you see,” Andy said.

“Duh!” Ash retorted.

Ash knew he wasn’t that dumb, but Andy liked it when he did play dumb. He had really studied on Madam Pomfrey’s essay, he knew the signs to come, that were about to come, as he felt the urge to really show his penis to Andy. Fortunately, Andy liked seeing it too. Ash climbed onto the bed, she eagerly moved her homework to the side as he straddled her.

“You’re really horny right now, aren’t you?” Andy asked, as she touched Ash’s foreskin.

“Yeah,” Ash replied, the dry orgasms had already started.

“At least you’re not going to go soft after the first try, are you?” Andy asked.

“No,” Ash said.

“Good, I need to ask—not here,” Andy said.

Andy stood, partially spread her shaven vulva toward Ash, before she grabbed his hard erection by his foreskin and tugged. Ash stumbled a bit as he followed, the intensity of the dry orgasms increased, as if the dick wanted to explode in a full, wet, sloppy, orgasm, but couldn’t. Ash stumbled a bit as he hobbled along, followed Andy with his hard cock in her hand, down the steps and out the front door.

Ash still felt a bit out of his element, parading his birthday suit around. With Harry, he had cast his feelings aside, and the same it had become with Andy; but he still evaluated them every time he went out the door.

They went along, a turn, a path, before they came to a cobblestone path, with a brick wall. Andy gently prodded Ash to lean back against the brick; her hands held his balls.

“I want you to swear that you said _nothing_ ,” Andy said.

“Of what?” Ash asked.

“You fed me that—” Andy started.

“It doesn’t taste good, medicine never does,” Ash said.

“Guess what Mum did?” Andy said, “Brought me into the doctor! Swear on your balls!”

“I didn’t tell,” Ash said, before Andy tightened her grip, “I swear!”

“It seemed…funny,” Andy said.

“As I told you last night, Harry and I and Gia all had it,” Ash said, “I figured it was from you—it happens! That’s why I swiped that bottle, gave it to you, and the doctor—?”

“Didn’t find a thing,” Andy said.

“Good,” Ash said, “You’re fun to be with, and I love you for that.”

“I had to beg the doctor to not record it, to not spill to my Mum,” Andy said, “I don’t want her to find out, ever.”

Ash knew she had changed the topic to her pregnancy, insistent that nobody else finds out, though Ash wondered how she planned to do that when the baby comes.

“Lets go and have some fun,” Ash said.

“You’re still at it,” Andy said, her fingers felt his quivering hard dick.

“I’ve been trying … something,” Ash said, “It’s super, hyper, sensitive.”

“Oh,” Andy said, now teasing with Ash’s foreskin, “It’s not going to stop?”

Ash felt each and every spasm that came from the touch of her brushing motion.

“Not for a while,” Ash said, “I need to piss too, but, it’s not going to piss for a while.”

“I think we can definitely have some fun with this,” Andy said, “Lets find our unlucky winner.”

Ash wasn’t certain, except for one thing, she was holding his stiff todger, and it felt good. Foot over foot, Ash’s feet moved with the grace of a drunk, the dry orgasms kept his balance unstable. Each wave crashed over him, kept his apprehension at bay, each doubt as people caught a glance at them, her hand curled around his shaft like a handle.

“What did you use?” Andy asked.

“Um…something,” Ash said, not sure how much Andy knew about magic.

“Well, I’m hungry…eating for two,” Andy said, “Here.”

They went into Bill’s Fish and Chips . Andy approached the counter, with a seventeen girl to the other side with a white paper hat on her brown hair.

“No shirt—” the girl said.

“Complain and—he’s ready to piss,” Andy said as she moved to show Ash’s hard cock to the seventeen year old cashier, “Three baskets and some hard lemonade.”

“Do you have your ID?” the girl asked, “Or money?”

“Brandi, you know exactly who I am,” Andy said.

“That’s why I’m asking,” Brandi said, frowning.

“Does Bill know you’re stealing from the register?” Andy asked.

“That’s not fair—” Brandi stammered.

“Stealing?” Ash said, “She doesn’t get caught?”

“She short changes the customers to make up for it,” Andy said, “So, Bill doesn’t notice anything.”

“Yeah, you best do it,” Ash said to Brandi.

“Coming right up,” Brandi said, “I’ll hold it close by so it’ll catch it when he pisses.”

“Thanks,” Andy said to Ash.

“So, which boyfriend is this?” Brandi asked.

“He’s…Ash,” Andy said.

“She knows actually your name,” Brandi said toward Ash, “Right?”

“Yeah,” Ash said, “How many have you had?”

“A few,” Andy said, “I mean, you need a boyfriend in order to get…” she patted her belly.

Ash understood.

“Don’t eat in here,” Brandi said, coming back.

Brandi put a large cardboard tray on the counter, with a large greasy white paper bag and two glass bottles.

“Later,” Andy said, “Well…”

Ash had actually wished he had pissed, the bladder was feeling a bit full as he picked up the cardboard tray, the smell of fish and chips wafted into his nose. Andy tugged on the hardon while also grabbing a bottle of vinegar.

“I’ll give you this, he’s cute,” Brandi said, “And…well, he’s not quite there.”

“He’s tolerant and won’t be premature,” Andy said, “Actually, he’s more mature than most of the boys I’ve met.”

“Well, wiener boy,” Brandi said, “When you get hair on those balls, look me up.”

Ash felt the tug, the orgasms, and he followed Andy, back out. They walked across the large round about, onto the grass in the middle, a circular picnic table in the middle. Ash sat on the table, put his feet on the bench. Andy spread Ash’s legs, sat between the legs to face him. She set the bag between and tore it open. She bunched the paper, set it right beneath Ash’s hard erection.

“So, Gia said you’re very shy,” Andy said as she ate the first fish strip, “Don’t look it.” She blew along the shaft. “Yeah, you’re not.”

“Am too,” Ash said, “We…if my dick’s being teased, I kinda…I sorta let go.”

“We’ll fix you then,” Andy said, “Even it if takes all night long.”

Ash grabbed a fish stick, ate. He didn’t really understand it himself, thought the Sorting Hat seemed to know him better than he knew himself. Ash didn’t understand how, nor did he care, instead, he just knew that Andy seemed to turn him upside down and inside out. Instead of being shy, Ash found it exhilarating, fun, to simply let Andy study every contour, every soft subtle edge, to his hard cock inches in front of her, despite the glares from motorists going around the round about.

“Shy, as if…” Andy said.

She pushed the paper bag down a bit more, moved it further, until Ash’s balls were resting on some hot chips, the erection over some fish strips. She took the vinegar, poured it over Ash’s penis, across the fish and chips. For a moment, it felt weird to Ash, to pull out a chip and feel it sliding across his scrotum. Andy, however, kissed the slit before she munched along the fish stick she was now sliding along the length of the shaft. Ash felt the never–ending dry orgasms continue.

“I am,” Ash said, “Before…the school for my letters, maybe a dozen I’d talk to. At Hog…my current school, just started it in September, I’ve talked to…counting Harry, two students and a couple of teachers. I’ll go days without speaking a word. Harry had to work at it, but I’ll talk with him, and you.”

Ash ate a few more fish sticks, chips, while Andy kept licking his cock.

“Must give Gia this,” Andy said, “It’s kinky.”

“I like it,” Ash said.

“Of course you would,” Andy said.

Ash popped the cap off one of the bottles, began to drink it.

“Do have to piss,” Ash said.

“Can it wait?” Andy asked.

“No,” Ash said, “It’s coming.”

Andy had just enough time to move, before she kept her eyes on his slit, the pink glans unsheathed. Ordinarily, Ash would feel uncomfortable in adjacent, shielded cubicles in the Hogwarts bathroom; but instead, this girl watched, waited as he yielded to the pressure. Her interest in him had downright uncloaked him, pierced his self–doubts as let her see as he began the release. Liquid that hesitated for a brief moment, came together as he began to pee, across the rest of their fish and chips, the golden seltzer splashed across the fried food, testing to see how well it’d hold up to the onslaught.

“Not shy, not one bit,” Andy said.

“You’re different,” Ash said, blushing as he glanced over at another motorist going by.

“You _are_ different,” Andy said, “Other boys don’t even pretend to be shy.”

“Have been, for ages,” Ash said, before he grabbed the fish stick he was pissing on, “Unless you’re still hungry—”

“I’ll try _one_ ,” Andy said, swiping it from his hands. She bit down. “Just as gross as you’d expect.”

“Sorry,” Ash said.

“Like I could really eat this much,” Andy said, “I just wanted to see her squirm.”

Ash sipped on his lemonade.

* * *

Meanwhile, Ron entered the Hogwarts library, when the commotion came to his ears.

“How are we to be sure?” asked Parvati Patil, on the opposite side of the side table from Hermione, glaring down.

“Do _you_ want to be doing my homework for me?” Hermione snapped.

“Get a room, you two,” Parvati Patil sneered as her eyes glanced at Ron.

“Back away,” Ron said.

“Is that a _threat_?” Parvati Patil asked.

“Does it need to be?” Ron said, “Back off! That’s all we’re asking.”

Ron sat down.

“I can’t focus like this,” Hermione grumbled.

Lavender Brown, Ernie Macmillan were standing nearby, watching.

“We’ve got the right to be here,” Ron said.

“Let’s go—somewhere else,” Hermione whispered.

“Got the books you need?” Ron asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said.

“We were just finishing up!” Ron announced, “Good night!”

Ron stood, Hermione stood, and they left the Library.

“You had to—” Hermione started.

“And let em think they drove us out?” Ron asked.

“Lets try the Great Hall,” Hermione said.

Ron and Hermione went down the steps, corridors, the marble stairs and started to cross the Entrance Hall.

“It is getting late,” Professor Snape said, “What are you not doing in your dormitories?”

“Studying in the Great Hall,” Ron said.

“Unavailable after dinner,” Professor Snape said.

Hermione and Ron went back up the marble stairs, followed by Professor Snape, until they came to the Fat Lady, entered. Quickly, tables that had been empty were quickly filled out by the other Gryffindors, as the others spread around.

“Rather obvious,” Ron said.

Ron and Hermione went up the stairs, into the sixth year boys’ dormitory, entered.

“Hey, no girls!” Thomas snapped.

“She’s _my_ guest,” Ron said.

“Rules are the rules!” Thomas said, “Five points, and hurry before I give you a detention with Snape!”

Ron adjusted the bookbag on his shoulder, led Hermione out of the dormitory, down the steps, and headed for the door.

“Hey!” Ginny said, “Stay!”

“NO!” Ron said, “Or, you tell them to let us study!”

“It’d be a mutiny,” Ginny said.

“Fine!” Ron snapped, “Later!”

Ron and Hermione left Gryffindor Tower.

“That’s not right,” Hermione said, “We’ve been together many times before.”

“I know,” Ron said, “Snape’s likely stalking us now.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Hermione said.

Hermione led Ron down to the fifth floor, and they entered the Prefect’s bathroom.

“Good thinking,” Ron said, “He’d have to admit to cleaning to come here.”

“I didn’t mean—” Hermione started as Ron pulled his shirt off.

“Why not?” Ron asked, as he stepped next to her.

He put his hands on her shoulders, pulled her in.

“Suppose they just got tired of us stripping in the common room,” Hermione said.

“Lets get some studying in,” Ron said, working the buttons on her shirt.

“You just want to study _those_!” Hermione snapped.

“Hermione, Hermione,” Ron said, as he undid the last of the buttons, “I can’t think of a better way to do our schoolwork, can you?”

“In the library would’ve been the best!” Hermione said.

“Lets go back, bang on the tables,” Ron said as his fingers traced her bare nipples.

“That’s what you always want,” Hermione said.

“A beautiful friend,” Ron said, “I can definitely study to that. Can’t you?”

Ron dropped his trousers in a quick move. His dick hung there as he reached for her zipper.

“Can I?” Ron asked.

“You’d better _study_!” Hermione said, “Harry needs to, actually.”

Ron removed her pants, knickers.

“Good idea,” Ron said.

“What?” Hermione replied.

Ron took out his Hogwarts Pin, his wand.

“Grab everything,” Ron said.

“Are you thinking—?” Hermione asked.

“Why not?” Ron said, “Like they’ll leave us alone tomorrow, so, go there.”

“I’m in,” Hermione said, “What about Quidditch?”

“It’s a Portkey, Hermione,” Ron said.

“Of course,” Hermione said.

Ron and Hermione gathered their belongings before Ron activated the Portkey. Hermione held on.

They landed in Gia’s bedroom, and only Hedwig was the other occupant on her perch. A bit of laughter from downstairs, and they left the bedroom. Down the steps, through the living room, Ron and Hermione entered the dining room. Gia’s finger dragged a red line, a racing stripe, down the side of Harry’s hard shaft; Harry was on his knees, on the table, while both of them were starkers.

“Hello,” Harry said.

“They wouldn’t leave us alone to study,” Hermione said.

“Mind if we crash here for the weekend?” Ron asked.

“Sure,” Gia said.

“So, what are you up to?” Hermione asked.

“It was supposed to be serious,” Harry said, laughing as Gia dragged more red along the other side.

“Just an idea,” Gia said, “Well, if we took it seriously, you know, coat his dick and see where it’s binding, or not, when we have sex.”

“Aw, the important thing,” Hermione said, sarcastically.

“Dunno,” Ron said, “Seems like a good idea.”

Ron put his bookbag down on the table, sat. Hermione sat across from him, next to Harry.

“I do have stuff to do too,” Harry said to Gia.

Harry got off the table, sat next to Hermione. Gia sat next to Ron.

“You couldn’t find a spot to study?” Harry said, “The Library—?”

“Nope,” Ron said.

“It’s a school!” Gia said.

“They accused me of funny stuff,” Hermione said, “Has Harry told you the antics that’ve been going on? Dean Thomas having fun docking us points or threatening us with detentions. There’s stealing Harry’s idea to adopt a first year. Or Seamus Finnigan colluding with Draco Malfoy to botch their potion.”

“You saw that?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said, “So, Ron’s bright idea was to come here.”

“At least here, she can study,” Ron said.

“Thank you,” Hermione said to Ron. She nearly crawled over, kissed Ron.

“So,” Ron said, “At least they haven’t taken to bullying your first year…what was his name?”

“Ash,” Harry said, “Not that they could, he’s here.”

“What?” Ron said, “Where?”

“On a date,” Harry said.

“Him and Richard’s sister, Ant,” Gia siad.

“Blimey!” Ron said.

“There’s all sorts of ways for this to go wrong Harry,” Hermione said.

* * *

Ash liked it, walking with Andy, starkers, with the penis that showed it too, though short, it was stiff as the ointment was doing its work. They came to the cinema, in a brick building. While they didn’t have pockets to even carry a wallet, Andy seemed determined to get in, and Ash figured she already had a plan. Andy led him to the back, where a multilevel car park stood, to a door. Andy put her ear to it.

“Wait for it, wait for it,” Andy said.

They waited, Andy kept listening.

“Don’t they check—” Ash asked.

“Now!” Andy said.

They backed away, just slightly, when the door opened. Andy held it open for the people coming out.

“Thank you for watching,” Andy announced, “Come back soon!”

After the last of the crowd left, Andy led Ash inside, into a large room with a projection screen, credits were still rolling, including Brook Mansbridge as a propmaker.[IMDB]

“Hide!” Andy snapped.

Andy went for a curtain, wrapped herself in it. Ash went into the second row and crawled beneath the seats, held two down. He saw the spent popcorn on the floor, a spilled soda, used gum. Quickly, teenage staff came through, did a light sweep, unenthusiastically, and missed half the junk on the floor. They waited until the staff finished.

“Front and center!” Andy whispered as she came out.

Ash got up, climbed over the seat back, and sat down in the velvet seat. Andy lifted the armrest, laid on the seat. Ash understood the message, straddled her, threaded his hard shaft into her, began to thrust while the theater began to fill up. His dry orgasms came back quickly, the ointment still in effect.

“Feels naughty,” Ash said.

“Got a problem with this?” Andy asked.

“And fun,” Ash said, showing her his grin.

Ash rolled off as the first of the trailers showed itself on the screen.

“Coming this December to the United Kingdom.”

Andy adjusted herself. They still laid across the two seats, with Ash looking up at the screen. Andy, though, had her feet toward his head, next to him, her vulva right next to his chest, right there, in his vision, ready for him to touch it. His left hand did, moved there, between her legs, and fiddled with the lace, the petals. Andy teased Ash’s scrotum, felt it, while the trailer played, showing mechanistic beings.

“Red Alert!”

Ash’s hand kept playing around, as he had learned to do. Andy explored his foreskin a bit more, pulled it slightly, peered inward, felt around. Ash felt good, the quivering, the spasms, kept going. A bit of leakage, but Ash didn’t mind as Andy spread a bit of his pee around his glans and kept it from drying out. Ash ignored the naughty glances from those around them, the theater was getting packed.

“Told ya,” Andy said, as she turned around.

Ash read the line on the screen, “Eddie Murphy”.

“Is this?” Ash asked as Andy leaned back against him, “It is.” Ash read the title, The Nutty Professor . “Another kid at school keeps going on how he saw it in the states.”

Ash’s dick touched her back, while her head was against his chest. Ash reached around, teased her nipples as hamsters, many hamsters, went across the streets, the cars, on screen. Andy moved again, while Ash remained on his back. Ash pulled his feet up as Andy sat there, his anus exposed to her. Her hand rested on his sack while Professor Krump walked into his classroom. Ash simply felt good, with her hand petting the purse of his scrotum, balls on display, beneath the hard erection, as they watched the movie.

* * *

Ron stepped into the hot tub, on the roof deck; his hard erection swayed, and he sat on the edge, feet in and legs spread.

“We ought to be studying,” Hermione said, she had wanted to get that Potions essay out of the way.

“Fifteen minute break is required, at least once every two hours,” Harry said, himself, nearly fully immersed in the bubbling water. Gia next to him.

“Ta,” Ron said.

“You’re absolutely stressed out,” Harry said, “Ron’s job is to relax you.”

“Means you’ve already planned on him screwing me,” Hermione said. She understood Ron, and Harry’s perversion to watching.

“That was the general idea, yes,” Harry said, “You do need to relax, sex does that for you, right?”

“You just want to watch us bang, pervert!” Hermione said. She knew she was stating the obvious, not that she really had a problem, this was Harry after all.

“I do appreciate it, if that’s your drift,” Harry said, “But look at these—” he held Ron’s loose testicles “—don’t they satisfy you?”

“She’s really stressed out,” Gia said, “Think she wants yours.”

Hermione snorted, like she really wanted to let the boys in that night, not like that.

“No, no,” Ron said, a bit mischievous in his reply to Gia, “She wants _you_.”

“Sure,” Hermione said, wondering if Ron realized he couldn’t take it back. However, it felt like the better answer.

“Alright,” Gia said.

Harry laughed for a minute.

“Out of the water,” Hermione said, she wanted him out.

“He’s nice and warm,” Ron said.

“Gotta know what’s going on,” Hermione said, finding a good excuse.

Harry pushed upward, his dick stiffened as he sat.

“Thought so,” Hermione said. Harry was usually stiff, or close to it, when he became naughty.

“Feel it,” Gia said, her eyes hinting at Harry as she spoke to Ron, “He’ll do you.”

“You can be evil,” Hermione said. Though, good, she felt. Good to turn the tables.

“They deserve relief too,” Gia said, with feigned innocence.

Harry’s right fingers reached, touched Ron’s shaft, explored. Ron’s left fingers moved to tease Harry’s foreskin. Gia, however, leaned into Hermione, began to kiss and lick. Maybe Harry had blessed her, but once Gia’s lips touched, Hermione felt the relaxation that had eluded, start to take over.

“Kinky,” Ron said.

“Ought to be,” Harry said.

Gia lifted Hermione, put her, crossways, onto the knees of Ron and Harry. Her feet went against the lip of the hot tub, head onto a floating pillow, while her right arm wrapped around Harry, held herself onto their laps. She felt Harry’s hard cock against her ribcage, while Ron’s was against her thigh. Both reminded her of the boys who’ve risked their necks to save hers, both were from friends who simply wanted her to be happy, both willing to share what they had even if it was just themselves. Both cocks were being stroked.

Gia’s right hand held the left breast, while the left fingers teased the clitoris. Gia leaned over and licked the right nipple.

Hermione knew she had smaller breasts than most, especially as the girls at school made derogatory comments about mixing her bras up with a third year. Neither Ron nor Harry seemed to mind, though, both have made it a point to compliment them, and she knew they were sincere even if they didn’t understand the depth of their comments.

Harry’s left hand reached over, replaced Gia’s on the breast. Gia moved, her tongue worked the clitoris, the fingers explored into the vulva. Gia moved her tongue, fingers went to the clitoris, while her tongue traced the lace in Hermione’s carpeted forest.

Hermione felt Harry’s hard cock begin to quiver, the urethrae began to pump, and she glanced at the tip that soared right above her breast as he began to squirt. Hot and sticky, it clung to her breasts, and it was enough for her to begin to bear down, the wave of contentment that went through her, as Harry’s spent todger started to soften. Hermione reached over, held the digit retracting itself, held it against her skin.

“Ta,” Harry said.

Ron’s now free hand massaged her stomach, inward around her naval. She felt the thicker erection begin its quiver, as Harry pulled on it. Ron ejaculated, upward, hit Gia before his semen dribbled down into Hermione’s loin.

“I’m done,” Ron said.

“She’s not,” Harry replied.

“Trying to go for the whole fifteen minutes?” Ron asked.

“Why not?” Hermione managed to say.

They claimed she ought to relax, and this was relaxing. Gia stimulating her vulva, her clitoris, into a perpetual orgasm. Both Harry and Ron with their spent seed on her, still kept their soft todgers and their balls against her skin, evidence of their feelings for her. She was the altar for her three friends here, and she enjoyed sharing herself with them, like they shared themselves with her.

Gia, though, did move, a few minutes later, to still be next to her side, with the fingers on the lace. Gia studied Hermione’s smile when the fingers spread the lace. Hermione nearly felt obliged, and relaxed; so she let the sphincter release. Harry grinned as he watched the jet shoot upward from Hermione as she peed. In years past, she would’ve scolded them, instead, she felt accepted. At the moment, Hermione was being worshiped, and she felt happy about it—Harry’s plan had obviously worked.

Harry yawned.

“Sex does that to him,” Ron said.

Like Ron had to state the obvious, Harry tends to get that way after an orgasm. She had to agree with Harry, she was way too relaxed to study when she found herself drifting asleep.

* * *

Ash was still laughing as the credits rolled, Andy had settled down already.

“You mama—” Andy started.

“So fat!” Ash said.

They laughed, she tickled his balls still perched in the pouch between his legs as he was still on his back. Her hand went around them, felt them, and Ash felt better for it.

“Best move before they see _me_ ,” Andy said.

Andy stood. She pulled for a moment on Ash’s hand, before Ash stood. They went back out the door that they had snuck in earlier; it was generally dark as the nearby outdoor light was busted. A traffic light later, Andy squatted on the sidewalk. Ash stood there, before it became clear, as Andy began to piss. She studied Ash’s hard erection.

“Just what did you use on your dick?” Andy said, “It’s still eager for more.”

“It’s a…lotion,” Ash said.

“Can I try it?” Andy asked.

“It might work for you,” Ash said.

Andy stood up, they continued walking.

“Going to stay the whole weekend?” Andy asked.

“I was planning on it,” Ash said.

“You said you don’t know your father?” Andy asked.

“Nope,” Ash said, “Not really…I know he was there in the beginning, of course. But I don’t remember him. Mum got knocked up by a solicitor—three times! I’m the youngest, so two older brothers. God, it’s nice to get away from them!”

“Just me and dick face Richard,” Andy said.

“Mum doesn’t get the assistance she’s owed from him,” Ash said, “So, yeah, not cheerful. Here.”

Ash brought her to a stop, curled her hand around his hard erection. Ash took a moment to relax as his nerves were still high, and let it flow. Ash peed, into her hand.

“Gross,” Andy said.

“Then you don’t like it?” Ash asked.

Andy removed her hand, but kept watching as Ash pissed, freely, onto the pavement ahead, the traffic light reflected off the stream.

“It’s what boys do,” Andy said, dismissively, “Lets go home.”

Ash and Andy continued, back to 26 Oak, entered. They went up the stairs. Ash glanced into Gia’s bedroom, the door open, with Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Gia all slumbering beneath the covers.

“Shh!” Andy whispered.

Andy didn’t take the hard right, but instead, the hard left. Ash followed enough to watch her enter the other bedroom, dark, with Richard fast sleep, chest exposed as the covers only went up to the crotch. Andy got onto the bed, squatted over Richard. It took Ash a moment to wonder before he saw the anus, the one he’d become familiar with, start to dilate. Ash watched as Andy started to drop brown chunks, defecated onto Richard’s chest.

Andy left the mess on Richard’s chest and went for the bathroom. Ash, however, went into the green painted bedroom, Andy’s bedroom. Ash walked, stepped over the clutter, to make it to the smaller bed as he heard the front door open.

“Andrea!” came the holler, accompanied by the footsteps on the stairs.

Ash glanced at the blankets, dove in, covered himself, only peeking out with one eye. Kristen, still in her police uniform, while carrying a couple curled sheets of paper in her hand, escorted Andy back into the bedroom.

“You didn’t even bother to get dressed, did you?” Kristen said, “That’s all I asked…and stay out of trouble, but you didn’t, did you?”

“Mum!” Andy protested.

“I’ve got report after report of you and your boyfriend running around town—where is he?” Kristen asked.

“He’s not here,” Andy said.

Ash was grateful for the cover–up.

“If we ignore the indecent exposure,” Kristen said, “Sex in public—”

“Harry and Gia do it all the fucking time!” Andy snapped.

“That’s not my problem, you are,” Kristen said, “Extortion, unauthorized entry at the cinema. You’re talking with Dr. Gordon, until then, you’re on restriction. Understood?”

“Yeah,” Andy said.

Kristen turned around, went for the master bedroom. Andy came into bed.

“Could’ve backed me up,” Andy said to Ash.

“How?” Ash replied.

“Naive, innocent,” Andy said, “Nope, you’re not.”

Andy’s arms worked around Ash, beneath the covers. Andy leaned her head against his, began to sleep.

Ash thought that maybe she was right. Still, he had a fun evening and hoped to have a another chance at it.

* * *

1 Credit comes from Betrayed by kateydidnt (madamauthor), the idea is being used with permission.  



	33. Fiery

Screaming woke them all up early Saturday morning.

“ANT!” Richard yelled from his bedroom, “SHE TOOK A SHIT—!”

“Blimey,” Ron muttered.

Harry, though, weaseled his way out of the group on Gia’s bed. Snuffles followed Harry.

“Look at what she—” Richard started as he came out of the bedroom, fingers pointed to the brown streaks on his stomach.

“Awake, run?” Harry asked.

“Just a moment,” Richard said, as he walked into the bathroom, and began to wipe with the washcloth.

Harry went down the stairs, Snuffles nudged. Harry went into the study, where Snuffles closed the door, and transformed.

“I really do appreciate being part of your life, Harry,” Sirius said.

“Something wrong?” Harry asked.

“No, nothing that’s not unusual,” Sirius said, “Remember where I’ve been, you learn not to take the ordinary quite for granted as you’d otherwise might.”

“What’s up?” Harry said.

“I need a bit of time off from time to time too,” Sirius said.

“Stressful, sleeping, chasing birds,” Harry said, “I get it.”

“Every new scent is one I must know, every person who approaches Gia, I must also know,” Sirius said, “It seems easy, and while there are perks, it is stressful. So, if you think you can handle today and tomorrow, I’ll be heading into town—London.”

“Yeah, sure,” Harry said.

“Keep her safe,” Sirius said, just before he transformed back to Snuffles.

Harry opened the door to the study.

“There you are,” Richard said.

Both starkers, they went out the front door, into the fresh morning.

“He’s following us?” Richard asked.

“For a ways, I suspect,” Harry said, “Either that or he likes your butt.”

“Thanks a _lot_ for making me think about it,” Richard said.

Harry slowed down just a tad, moved behind Richard, and studied the flexing muscles, the balls that kept dancing beneath.

“It’s a nice butt,” Harry said before he moved back to be along side Richard.

“You’re interested?” Richard asked, after a quick glance at Harry’s growing erection.

Snuffles yipped as they went past the station, diverted off.

“What can I say, it’s nice,” Harry said, “I can appreciate your butt, right?”

“Suppose so,” Richard said, “Better than taking a dump on my chest in my sleep.”

“It could’ve been Jen,” Harry said.

“That’s not her style, but it is Ant’s,” Richard said.

“So, school’s been a bit…dismal,” Harry said, changing the topic.

“They still hate you for those murders you didn’t commit?” Richard asked.

“Its not just the murders,” Harry said, “In past years, sure, something minor, but this year, it’s been…I can’t go about without my motives being questioned. It’s annoying.”

Their bollocks swung beneath their pubic hair as they ran. Harry’s todger remained stiff. A left, a right, past an industrial park. They came to the airport. Richard came to a halt.

“Wasn’t really planning—here,” Richard said, “Care for a spin?”

“What?” Harry asked.

“Needed to do it this weekend or next,” Richard said, “You know, keep my flight hours up.”

Richard led the way into Ace Flight Operations . A short but thin man was behind the counter.

“Can I help you?” the man asked.

“Ivan,” Richard said, “I was wondering if I could take a plane up today? Couple of hours, no where in particular.”

“Need to stretch your wings? I understand,” Ivan said, “Lets see what is available, sir.”

“You can stop the ‘sir’ nonsense,” Richard said, “If I wanted that, I’d tail my Mum to work.”

Ivan glanced at the board, with status to each aircraft, most were green, before he opened an appointment calendar.

“All booked,” Ivan said, “I can slip you into a Cessna 182 this afternoon.”

“Yeah, I’ll take it,” Richard said, “You Harry?”

“Got practice,” Harry said.

“I’ll bring Jen,” Richard replied.

“Alight, got you scheduled,” Ivan said.

“Thanks,” Richard said.

Harry and Richard left the building.

* * *

Ash held the jar of Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment in his left hand, knees on the hardwood floor in front of Andy’s bed, while he painted with his right, dabbed it onto Andy’s clitoris as she was sitting there. Ash made no effort to hide his erection from her or the bay window next to her bed.

“That’s it?” Andy asked.

“A bit more,” Ash said, “Wait five minutes and rinse.”

Ash worked the folds of skin, the lace around her labia, into her vagina. Ash wasn’t certain how much of her skin needed it, so he erred on the said of caution, and covered the entire area around her pussy. Ash, though, wondered how much longer this jar would last as it was nearly empty.

“My tits—it’s…” Andy said, “Lets get you.”

“I already—” Ash stuttered, however, Andy had already grabbed the jar of Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment from him.

Andy reached down, painted it onto Ash’s erection, dabbed a bit underneath his foreskin, before spreading it onto his scrotum.

“And the arse,” Andy said.

Ash turned around, felt the fingers push inward, into and around his anus. Ash turned around to see her applying a bit to her own, before she closed the jar.

“Come on,” Andy said.

She rushed Ash, pulled him into the bathroom, closed the door, and moved Ash into the shower. She turned on the water, began to lather Ash up. Ash felt the tingling, the extra rush, as his dry orgasms came back to life. Ash worked her back, scrubbed, and cleaned. They rinsed.

“Sorry to be in a rush, but we’ve got things to do,” Andy said.

“Of course, of course,” Ash said. He knew he ought to be working on his homework, but hanging out with her was more fun.

“You know, lets see if we can make it super sensitive,” Andy said.

Andy rushed out of the bathroom, returned a moment later with the jar. She opened it, applied the last of it to Ash’s hard erection.

“We’re fucking out!” Andy said, “Get some more.”

“Have to talk to Harry—he bought it,” Ash said.

“You’re useless,” Andy said.

“Am not!” Ash said, “He thought it’d help—”

“Probably premium stuff,” Andy said, “We’ll just have to hope the chemist doesn’t keep it locked up.”

Andy foisted a towel at Ash, and he dried himself while she dried herself. They went out the bathroom, down the steps, and out the front door. They shivered. Ash wasn’t utterly certain if it were cold, or if it was just his dick that felt cold.

“Back inside,” Andy said.

They went back into the house, up the stairs, to her bedroom.

“I kinda like Harry’s idea, mooning _everybody_ ,” Andy said.

Ash hadn’t thought of it like that, more worried about his todger, but he was showing his butt off every time he went out the door.

“A jumper?” Ash asked.

“Get yours,” Andy said.

“It’s back at school,” Ash said, “Ain’t going there until Monday.”

“Um…” Andy glanced around, found a blue jumper, with a front zipper, “Henry’s, I think.”

Ash took it, put it on.

“Still offensive,” Andy said, “Cool. Be right back.”

Ash bent over his bookbag, pulled out his nine inch walnut wand with dragonheart string, put it into the pocket of the jumper just before Andy returned. She wore the gray jumper, zipper up, and only went down to her hips, as she was naked below, like he was.

“Come on,” Andy said.

They went down the steps and out the front door.

“Yeah, underwear would’ve been a pain,” Ash said, as he felt the breeze exceptionally well on his hard dick jutting outward.

“I know,” Andy said.

“Your Mum said—” Ash started.

“Doesn’t know squat,” Andy said, “If she were serious, I’d be in jail. And she does that more than enough, thank you very much.”

“Forget it,” Ash said.

“I’m hungry,” Andy said, “This way.”

Ash followed her, a different direction than usual. They crossed a brook, went over to where the houses were even more spread apart. Andy stopped by a red car, a convertible, parked along the street, she peered into the windshield.

“Whatchya doing?” Ash asked.

“Shopping,” Andy replied.

She went to the rear right tire, reached underneath, pulled out a magnetic metal box. She opened it, revealed a key, and a key fob.

“You’re…” Ash stuttered.

“Get in,” Andy said, opening the passenger door on the right, hinted for Ash.

Ash approached, read the enough to know it was a Ferrari 550 Maranello. Inside, a tan leather interior, and a bucket seat that he promptly put his bare butt onto. His anus felt good with the leather snuggled right onto it, while his hard dick kept up its tirades of dry orgasms. Andy went around, got into the driver’s side, on the left.

“Aren’t these seats backwards?” Ash asked.

“I’m guessing it’s an import,” Andy replied as she started the engine, “Besides, the richer they are, the dumber they get—leaving your key in a little box? Stupid, stupid, stupid—the bloke deserves it.”

They felt the roar of all twelve cylinders as Andy put it into gear. They moved.

“Thanks for coming along,” Andy said, “You’re fun to be with—wow! Are my nipples feeling this jumper!”

“Can you feel the seat up your bum too?” Ash asked.

“Good leather,” Andy said, “Saw this lovely machine yesterday on my way home, had to have it. Hopefully they won’t miss it for a while, it is Saturday.”

“I know,” Ash said.

“It’s a 1997 model,” Andy said, “And started production, it feels good already.”

Andy pulled the car into a drive–thru to a fast food restaurant.

“It’s on your side,” Andy said, pulling out a twenty pound note from the pocket of her jumper, “Here’s some cash.”

“Where—?” Ash asked.

“Don’t ask questions,” Andy replied.

Ash ordered, and Andy pulled up to the window. A young lady bent over, delivered the food as Ash handed over the bill.

“Keep the change!” Andy hollered.

“Thank you,” the lady said.

Andy drove further, until they left Noigate, headed toward Surrey, and she pulled off into a small gravel lot and parked.

“I’m hungry,” Andy said.

Ash handed the sack over, she pawed into the bag.

“We’re lovers in a car,” Ash said, “Aren’t we supposed to—do something?”

“Ohh…nice,” Andy said, she reclined her seat as far as the two seater would let her.

Both of them removed their jumpers, set them aside. Ash climbed, squatted between her legs, feet to either side of her, pushed his knees against the seat back as he moved his butt. His erection touched her clitoris.

“Oh….” Andy said.

“Bad?” Ash asked, though his dick felt alive.

“I’m…it’s why you were going all night long, right?” Andy asked.

“Yeah,” Ash said.

Ash pushed inward, his cock vibrated as it went in, it went beyond his dry orgasms. Ash flexed his knees as best he could, his testicles rested on the leather, as he began to drill in her. His dick wanted to draw him further in, it was intense, when he started to feel a sensation he hadn’t felt before. Ash pulled out, with more force than he had anticipated, honked the horn as his back hit the steering wheel. His hard cock jutted upward, when he felt the sudden easement, a fountain started to pulse out of his slit, not yellow, but off white.

“Congratulations, I think,” Andy said, as the sticky white flew up her front, drenched her breasts.

“I…” Ash muttered.

“That’s a flood,” Andy said.

Ash felt better than mere dry orgasms, this was wet, and it didn’t stop.

“Busted?” Ash asked.

“Eleven years old?” Andy asked.

“Yeah,” Ash said.

“Eleven years of stuff to get out,” Andy said.

“Must be it,” Ash said.

“Best get moving if we’re not to draw attention to ourselves,” Andy said.

“Yeah,” Ash said.

Still dribbling, ejaculating, Ash, already used to moving during his dry orgasms, kept his wits and returned to the passenger seat. It did not occur to him that he was spreading his DNA throughout the car as his ejaculation continued. Instead, Andy put the car back into gear, released the parking brake, and they continued. She found her way to the M3 motorway, pressed on the gas, shifted gears, and quickly their speed went into the triple digits.

* * *

Snuffles trotted through Charing Cross Station, onto Charing Cross Road. He trotted until he found the faded sign that did not advertise. He pushed open the door, entered the Leaky Cauldron, and it was crowded.

“Can you believe what’s happened in Hogsmeade?”

“Harry Potter, the Boy who Lived?”

“Can’t be.”

“Merlin’s Beard!”

“I’d wager fifty Galleons on Holyhead Harpies.”

“I’d wager fifty Galleons on Falmouth Falcons.”

“You take that back! Harpies have—”

“It’ll be a relief, no Knockturn Alley to worry about kids wandering down.”

“Is that really Harry Potter taking a run in his birthday suit?”

“If it is, he can screw me any time.”

“He’s all grown up.”

Snuffles listened as he waited, near the back, until a wizard went for the door. Snuffles followed, through the tiny courtyard into Diagon Alley. While less crowded than right before the start of term for Hogwarts or Halloween, it was still busy. Snuffles worked his way to 93 Diagon Alley, into Weasley Wizarding Wheezes .

“I think we have some flea powder,” Fred said.

Snuffles, though, went into the back.

“Did Harry Potter really kill—” asked Hestia Jones.

“I do not believe that,” said Arthur Weasley, “That’s out of his character, and Molly would agree with me if she were…” He paused to let out a tear.

Snuffles ducked behind the curtain, transformed, and removed the dog collar. Sirius came out, joined the group around the table.

“Why did the Minister—” Professor Tonks started to asked.

“QUIET!” Professor Dumbledore said, as loud as his hoarse voice would allow, “We unfortunately do not possess all of the information. In fact, we can’t be certain of Mr. Potter’s innocence aside from the trust we have all vested into that _young man_. Remus, fill them in.”

Professor Lupin stood.

“As you know, I was…indisposed, so I was unable to go into Hogsmeade myself,” Professor Lupin said, “It is the latest in a disturbing pattern that is emerging. Slanderous rumors, an attack on Potter himself, and a number of assaults are starting to occur at Hogwarts.”

“There are witnesses,” Professor Snape said.

“You never had faith in the boy,” Professor Lupin said, “You apparently—”

“Enough!” Professor Dumbledore said, “Please continue Remus.”

“We have students who believe the witnesses,” Professor Lupin said, “Students who don’t know Harry, to think he’d take leave of a hot girlfriend in order to go and practice slugging his chums. So, when eighteen people were attacked in Hogsmeade, twelve of whom died from their injuries, where circumstantial evidence lends itself to pointing at Harry because he was the first to respond to the scene; conclusions are being drawn.”

“The Ministry is quite convinced on Mr. Potter’s guilt,” Kingsley Shacklebolt said.

“As would I if I were to read The Daily Prophet ,“ Professor Lupin said, “They don’t know Harry like we know Harry. Despite their proximity to the crime, there’s no proof that ties them to have committed the crime, no motivation, no means from them. They were simply at the wrong place at the wrong time; whether that was accidental or deliberate is an open question.”

“I sensed no doubts, no reservations, no deception, when they disputed the claim,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Therefore, I am convinced that Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley are innocent. However, twelve were still murdered, and that should alarm everybody.”

“Who, then, are we talking about?” Arthur Weasley said.

“Do we really need to debate who’d take interest in setting Harry up?” Sirius said, “We all know the answer.”

“Please ask Lord Voldemort where he was last Saturday morning,” Professor Lupin said to Professor Snape.

* * *

Harry searched Hedwig’s perch; his wallet and wand were nearby on top of the bookshelf. Both Harry and Ron were starkers.

“Can’t find it!” Harry said, “My Portkey should’ve been right here.”

“We’ve got mine,” Ron said, “We’ll try to find it tonight.”

“Yeah, I’ll have to look for it later,” Harry said, “I don’t want to be explaining to Dumbledore that I lost it.”

Ron took his Portkey out and activated. Harry held on. They landed in Ron’s four poster bed, Harry fell onto Ron. For a moment, Harry’s balls bounced off Ron’s butt crack. They rolled off, out through the drawn curtains. Ron put his Portkey, wand, aside, grabbed his Firebolt, while Harry grabbed his. Ron opened the window. Both mounted, and flew out the window.

“Beats the stairs,” Ron said.

They flew through the pleasant air, bits of clouds starting to drift overhead beneath the sky. Sunshine kept their skin warm, made up for the slight chill in the air. Their balls hung loose, dicks against the handles.

“I should’ve expected nothing less,” Ginny said as Harry and Ron landed in the Quidditch pitch, “Daring, again.”

“It’s Quidditch, only need a broom,” Ron said.

“And balls,” Ginny said, “Fortunately Josh thought to stop by Wood’s office, get them, much better than yours.”

“Don’t knock them,” Harry said, “Ron’s got good balls too.”

“Those puny things?” Ginny said, “Much better ones are…” she stared at Harry’s loose scortum, dangling his testicles beneath the end of the already long foreskin covered penis hanging out from the center of his jet black pubic hair. “Seeing as you’re already starkers—guess it’ll be so for practice.” Ginny pulled her shirt off, revealing her brassiere.

“Ginny!” Colin exclaimed, coming onto the field.

“Ron just announced it,” Ginny said, “No clothes.”

“Smile!” Colin said to Harry, pulling his camera up to his face.

Click!

Colin went to the side of Harry, came to his knees, and aimed the camera to get a side profile of Harry’s soft dick, hanging out while the thigh shielded.

Click!

“We’ve got practice!” Harry said, “Gimme that camera and we’ll get you onto the film!”

Harry snatched the camera from Colin.

“Alright, alright!” Colin protested.

“Come on,” Harry said.

Click!

“Pictures for Ginny’s collection,” Harry said, “Give her a strip tease.”

Click!

“Come on,” Ginny said to Colin, “Trousers first.”

Colin grumbled, removed his shoes, and began to lower his trousers. Harry came in close, taking close ups of Colin’s crotch, the bulge in the white briefs as the trousers descended.

“I never—” Colin muttered.

“Oh yes you have,” Ron said, “I’ve seen them in Witch Weekly !“

“Ginny, what’s next for him?” Harry asked, “Shirt or underwear or socks?”

“Remove your underwear,” Ginny said to Colin.

Colin trembled for a moment, before he put his thumbs beneath his waistband.

“What’s happening?” asked Justin Prewett, coming onto the field.

“A little show,” Ginny replied.

“Do we all have to do this?” asked Josh Brenner, carrying the crate.

“No,” Ron said.

Colin, though, pushed his white briefs down; Harry kept the camera aimed close, more clicks as he pressed the button. Light brown pubic hair showed first, before the length of the shaft. More and more, the penis began to show, the sack of the scrotum came to light. A dark ring, a band that encircled the shaft, and the unsheathed penis where foreskin should have been on Colin’s circumcised penis. Colin’s underwear went beneath the knees. Harry stepped back, took several whole pictures of Colin with his underwear around his ankles, the penis hung out beneath his shirt. Colin kicked the underwear off, and Harry took more pictures.

“He _is_ cute,” Ginny said.

Colin blushed. Harry moved back in, fast, took close up pictures as Colin’s dick stiffened, the balls hung by themselves beneath and behind. Harry moved back, pressed the camera button each time he did, centered Colin in the picture.

“Before you strip the shirt,” Harry said, “We need your butt.”

“What is going on?” Josh asked.

“Here,” Harry said, as he handed the camera to Ginny, “Get his butt, and everything else you’d like, including him naked, him wanking, and at least a few with his seed hanging from his dick. If you’d like us to get him banging _you_ , just hand us the camera.”

“What’s the big fucking idea?!” Colin stammered.

“If you’re going to be taking these pictures of me, of others,” Harry said to Colin, “You best understand what it’s like yourself.”

“Good idea,” Josh Brenner said, “He got several of me…um…never mind.”

“It pisses everybody off,” Harry said to Colin, “Therefore, you will publish these pictures, of yourself, in the next Witch Weekly , where you are the featured wizard, front page, and centerfold. It’ll include your life’s story, closeups of your dick, and measurements; Ginny will assist your write up. After that, after you’ve got witches sending you marriage proposals, after you’ve got witches salivating, using you to get horny, to turn themselves on, then come back to me. Ask for _my_ permission, first, understood?”

Justin and Paul Prewett clapped.

“He’s not gotten me yet,” Natalie MacDonald said.

“Oh, he will,” Harry said, “Or, you just don’t know it.”

“Think you can manage this Ginny?” Ron said, “Keeping Harry out of that Witch Weekly ?“

“Sure,” Ginny said, “You haven’t said anything about a special edition.”

“Colin, correction,” Harry said, “She’s the other half, one of us can get the pictures of you two banging.”

“Rest of you, we’ve got practice,” Ron said.

Ron flew upward, Harry did too. Josh came up.

“Did you mean for this to be a fully starkers practice?” Josh asked.

“If you want to—fine,” Ron said, “Up to you.”

Josh flew back down to beneath the stand. A Bludger went by, Justin Prewett, twelve and starkers with his brown hair, though little in the way of pubic hair, flew past, bat in hand.

“Didn’t I say it was optional?” Ron asked.

Harry could see it too, Paul Prewett and Natalie MacDonald were also starkers when Josh Brenner walked out from beneath the stands. Josh was a bit older, with the thick pubic showing.

“We weren’t going to require it,” Harry said.

“Except for Colin,” Ron said.

“He needed a taste of paparazzi on his tail,” Harry said, glancing at Ginny photographing as a utterly naked Colin as he wanked for her.

“Okay,” Ron said, handing the Quaffle to Harry, “You try to get it past me, get them in on it too.”

Ron flew to the three hoops, hovered. Harry went fast, Ron blocked as he tried to score.

“That’s my job,” Josh Brenner said, coming up, though he blushed as he sported a hard erection of an intact todger.

“Well, here,” Harry said, handed the Quaffle over, “Ron wants a tough time at it, I figure five against one, we’ve got a chance.”

“We’re down two,” Josh Brenner said.

“It’s why I ought to practice Chasing too,” Harry said, “Just in case.”

“Good idea,” Josh Brenner replied.

Click!

Harry glanced, Ginny had the camera trained on him, only a few feet away, of his dick drapped over the broom handle.

“Colin!” Harry snapped.

“He wanked, he’s done,” Ginny said, “I’ve still got the camera.”

Harry glared.

Click!

Harry pushed down, flew. Ginny pursued.

Click! Click!

“I need your front side too!” Ginny shouted.

Click! Click!

Harry flew, pulled around the stand, when Ginny was right in front of him.

Click! Click!

“Catch me!” Harry quipped.

Ginny pursued as Harry flew fast, he barreled toward the end.

“What?!” Ron stammered, glancing at the fast approaching Harry.

“SCORE!” Josh Brenner said as he slammed the Quaffle through a hoop, “DISTRACTION FOR THE WIN!”

“I need that camera!” Colin quipped, giving chase to Ginny.

“No!” Ginny retorted.

Harry moved in between Colin and Ginny.

“Stop it!” Harry snapped to Colin.

“She’s got—” Colin said.

“I’d be _very_ disappointed if the camera befell an _accident_!” Harry retorted.

“But—” Colin stammered.

“I told you,” Harry said to the starkers Colin, whose testicles balanced on top of the handle, “They are getting published. You must know what it’s like!”

“That’s unfair!” Colin snapped.

“You’re right,” Harry said, “Check yourself into the Hospital Wing, Ginny will send in those pictures too.”

Click! Click!

Colin still pursued her. Harry flew a lap around Colin, before he grabbed Ginny, gave her a boost higher.

“Thank you,” Ginny said, before she turned the camera onto Harry, “I’ll stop on one condition.”

“I don’t think I’d like this,” Harry said.

“You’d love it,” Ginny said, “I can put out too! A picture, for posterity?”

“No!” Harry snapped.

Harry kept flying, every chance at a break thwarted by her and the camera. Ginny kept pursuing. Colin, Natalie, and Josh kept pressing the Quaffle at Ron, while both Justin and Paul kept practicing with their bats punching the Bludgers between them.

“Get a few of your brother!” Harry said.

“Why?” Ginny retorted.

Click! Click!

Harry spotted Ron landing, flew down too, near the posts for the goals.

“Good,” Ginny said, “Colin!” She handed Colin the camera, before she approached Harry.

“Finally!” Colin said, about to open the camera.

“No!” Ginny said, “Film this!”

“What?” Harry asked.

Ginny pushed Harry against the post for the goal.

“You’re sweaty,” Ginny said to Harry, “Interesting.”

“What are you doing?” Harry asked.

“Do I need to spell the obvious?” Ginny said, “You’re in love, with me!”

“Not like that,” Harry said.

“No!” Ginny said, “We Weasley’s have been super nice to you Harry, you think Mum encouraged that for nothing? You are _mine_!”

“NO!” Harry snapped.

“Weasley is your destiny!” Ginny shouted.

Harry pushed, Ginny fell back, her shaved vulva spread open.

“Harry!” Ron snapped.

“She’s hitting on me,” Harry said, “Won’t take NO for an answer.”

“You shoved—” Ron started.

“You owe me!” Ginny said, coming back to Harry, “Weasley is where you belong, and I can have your children, just requires a bit of sex—”

“Alright!” Harry said, “If you insist, I’ll pork a Weasley.”

“Good,” Ginny said, holding her breasts up.

“Ron,” Harry said as he wrapped his arm around Ron’s shoulder, pulled Ron in tight.

“Harry?” Ron asked.

Harry pulled Ron down, slightly, planted his lips on Ron’s.

“NO!” Ginny screamed.

Harry moved around, to Ron’s backside, looked over Ron’s shoulder at Ginny.

“You wanted me to fuck a Weasley,” Harry said, “I choose Ronald. I mean, look at this gorgeous hunk.”

Harry reached around, held Ron’s todger upward, felt it slither.

“And his balls—look at his balls,” Harry said, reaching downward, holding the testicles, “And Ron, never shave—this is important.” He reached up, felt the plush, billowing, pubic hair. “Yeah, keep it.”

“You can’t—he’s a wizard!” Ginny replied.

“I can trust him with my cock!” Harry said, “You—you I can’t!”

Ron stood there. Harry smelled Ron’s sweat, the odor from the armpits rose to blend in. It spooked Harry, a bit, for he didn’t find it foul and disgusting, instead, familiar and inviting. Harry had been with Ron, a lot, in close quarters, even bore Ron’s passion on occasion, but here, Harry realized it was deeper. A thought of porking Ron had become enticing, and Harry’s todger stiffened behind Ron. Harry tapped it between Ron’s buttocks.

“You’re _not_ gay!” Ginny shouted.

“Later Harry,” Ron said.

“Yeah,” Harry said, coming back around.

“See, you _are_ interested in me!” Ginny said.

“I can’t trust you,” Harry said, “I think practice is done, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Ron said.

Harry and Ron mounted their Firebolts, pushed off. Ginny followed. In a matchup of pure speed, her Cleansweep could not keep up. Harry and Ron made it to Gryffindor Tower, flew into the window. Harry shut the door as Ron got the Portkey and his wand. Ron activated it, Harry touched it, and it pulled them away.

“Were you seriously going to pork me?” Ron asked.

“I was thinking about it,” Harry replied.

“Really?” Ron asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, as they landed. “You’re my best friend, I can trust you with my back. I’d pork you in a heartbeat, if you wanted it. And yes, like Hermione, I do love these too.”

Harry approached Ron, held Ron’s testicles beneath the loose todger in his fingers, the thumbs felt the pubic hair. Harry leaned in, kissed Ron again.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Ron asked.

“I’ve blown you, remember?” Harry said, “I’d pork you too, if you wished it.”

“Hermione comes first,” Ron said.

“So does Gia,” Harry said, “Still, I love you.”

Ron held Harry’s erection against his own soft todger. Ron’s dick stiffened to meet its buddy.

“That, into you?” Ron asked.

“Again?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Ron said, chuckled, “Again.”

“More I see it, the more I enjoy seeing you naked,” Harry said, “You’re the Weasley I’ve fallen in love with, completely. I see your family through your eyes, including your Mum who always made me feel welcome, made me part of your family. So, yeah, it’s tough to have to push Ginny away, I think she’s still got that wrong idea.”

“She had a crush on you ever since she met you,” Ron said.

“I know and I ignored it for the longest time, but she’s not my date,” Harry said, “I don’t want to push her that far away, she’s still your sister and I want to keep her, as our sister.”

“Thank you,” Ron said.

“Gia and Hermione are likely downstairs,” Harry said, “And I have a Portkey to find.”

Harry moved away from Ron, knelt, and started to pull books off the bookshelf, stacked them.

* * *

Tires screeched as Andy dropped the gears around the round about, with a freshly filled tank of gas, as they merged back onto the M40 north of Oxford. It was late, already in the evening, as they had already made it to Cardiff and back, Ash’s butt was still on the ribbed leather seat. Their jumpers on the center console between them.

“You just won’t stop,” Andy said as Ash’s erection sent out another volley to become another puddle to stain the carpet.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” Ash said, “Keeps going and going.”

“Should likely see a doctor,” Andy said.

“Yeah, right,” Ash said. While it was annoying, his dick was free and clear, and he was certainly glad it wasn’t getting trapped in any underwear.

The needle on the speedometer well past a hundred forty.

“Like I’ve got anything to help with that,” Andy said, “Lets see.”

Andy reached into the pockets of her jumper, pulled out a wad of bank notes, when it fell out, the Hogwarts Pin. Ash reached down, seized on this.

“You nicked this from Harry, didn’t you?” Ash demanded, he recognized the Portkey.

“He covets it, figure it’s worth something,” Andy said.

“You don’t know what you nicked,” Ash said, “Doubt you’d even get a pound for it, but it’s sentimental value—” Ash knew he was starting to make it up, trying to persuade her that it was worthless.

“If it’s sentimental, why doesn’t he _lock it up_?” Andy asked.

“How much have you stolen from him?” Ash asked.

“Like I said, rich, stupid, and dumb,” Andy said.

“Harry’s really nice, and my friend,” Ash said, “I can’t believe you stole from him. His money, it’s his inheritance from his dead parents, you can’t replace that, them.”

“What’s this change of heart?” Andy said.

“You’re not a bully, or I thought you weren’t,” Ash said, “You seemed so nice.”

“You want out?” Andy asked, as she tapped on the brakes.

WHIRR!

Blue lights flashed behind them, lit up the cabin. Andy pushed down on the gas, floored it, and the car moved faster. The needle moved on the speedometer. Andy dropped the gear, reved the engine, brought them to a hundred seventy before she put it back into the top gear. They kept accelerating, along the M40. Cop cars ahead, would move inward, try to block, but Andy moved between, the cop cars could not keep up with the Ferrari as the needle neared two hundred miles per hour.

“Where’s your school?” Andy said.

“Scotland, north of Glasgow,” Ash said.

“Rubbish, you can’t expect me to believe that you commute from there to home,” Andy said, “London, right?”

“No,” Ash said.

“You’re lying,” Andy said.

“Watch out!” Ash shouted. Ash had seen it ahead, cops to either side, with a strip between them, a line of spikes. Andy tried to correct, but the car’s momentum carried them forward across the spike strip.

“FUCK!” Andy said, “It’s tough to steer!”

Ahead, the motorway made a sharp bend, rated for forty five miles per hour.

“I need to tell you something,” Ash said, “I’ve got a way out, just hold on.”

Ash removed his wand from the pocket of his jumper, held the Portkey, and touched his wand to it. He trusted that it was that simple. Fifteen seconds, that was how long Harry seemed to have.

“What?” Andy asked, touching the Portkey, her eyes now on the pin.

A jerk behind the naval, they were pulled out of the car. Dazed, the Portkey took a moment, held them above as the Ferrari plowed into the concrete wall, burst into flames as it rapidly disintegrated. The Portkey pulled them, when Andy let go. Andy vanished from Ash’s view as the Portkey whisked him along.

“NO!” Ash shouted as he landed in Harry’s four poster bed.

“What?” came the voice of Neville, footsteps approached.

Ash hurried, tapped the pin again, felt the tug, and was drawn south. He landed in Noigate, in Gia’s bedroom.

“What the—?” Gia asked.

“Blimey!” Ron snapped.

“Ash?” Harry asked.

All four pairs of eyes of Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Gia were staring at him, Ash, standing there, with a hard erection that squirted out another shot of the sticky off white semen; Ash’s ejaculation continued in the middle of a disorganized bedroom. Books pulled aside, drawers emptied onto the tops of the dressers and shelves, and Hedwig’s perch was elevated on a stack of a few books.

“It’s Andy, she stole your Portkey,” Ash said, “I swear, I didn’t know until just now—I had to get it back to you.” Ash put it down next to Harry’s wand and wallet.

“An interesting tale,” Hermione said.

“Explains the missing Portkey,” Ron said.

“Where is Ant now?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know,” Ash said, “I don’t want to rat her out either.”

“Why is your dick acting like that?” Gia asked. Ash grateful she turned the attention away from Andy, but now, they’re going to discuss his dick?

“I thought you couldn’t—” Harry started.

“It started this morning,” Ash said, “Andy and I—I banged her, it started but it’s not stopping.”

“Aren’t you a bit young for this?” Ron asked.

“You didn’t by chance try that ointment Harry was raving over?” Gia asked.

“What ointment?” Hermione asked.

“I’ll show you,” Ash said.

He went into Andy’s bedroom, put his wand into his bookbag, looked before he remembered, and went into the bathroom. It was still there, so he grabbed the empty jar of Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment and brought it back into the bedroom, handed it to Hermione.

“Why do you have this?” Hermione asked, “You don’t have burns.”

“I bought it,” Harry said, “It’s not the Healer grade—it’s the sexual grade.”

“Why would you even think to do this Harry?” Hermione asked.

“I gave him Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment to help with his confidence,” Harry said.

“That’s not on the prescribed uses!” Hermione exclaimed as she glared at Harry.

“How much have you used?” Ron asked.

“The entire jar,” Harry said, pointing to it.

Ash nodded.

“That’d put a smile onto anybody’s face,” Ron bemused.

Hermione went to her bookbag, pulled out Gazetteer of Exotic Potions , thumbed it open.

“You just happen to have—” Ron stammered.

“Tom Riddle checked it out,” Hermione said, “It’s just not in the restricted section because it doesn’t list ingredients.”

“And?” Ron asked.

“Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment also known generically…” Hermione said, “Healers add stinging nettles to avoid addiction… Occasionally, cases are reported that stem from using this potion more frequently that recommended. Typically, excessive sensitivity is reported. However, it is known to permanently advance the maturation of reproduction organs in prepubescent individuals, which is ill–advisable in any situation, though it has been known to be used when an heir is urgently needed.”

“It means he can now ejaculate,” Harry said, “Obviously.”

“That’s what I said,” Hermione said.

“It’s permanent?” Ash asked.

“Congratulations,” Ron said, “Welcome to the club, spend it wisely.”

Hermione laughed. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

“Spending it on you _is_ wise,” Harry said.

“Thanks,” Ron said.

“It is what it is,” Hermione said to Ash, “Think you’ll just have to wait it out.”

Ash, though, walked back across the hall, his erection still dribbling, and he sat on Andy’s empty bed. He wondered where she was. Harry came into the bedroom, over to Ash.

“So, where is she now?” Harry asked.

“Dunno,” Ash said, “She let go.”

“Where?” Harry asked.

“Somewhere north of Oxford,” Ash said, “That’s the best I can tell.”

“She’s a Muggle under _your_ care,” Harry said, “You had a duty—”

“I was mad,” Ash said, “Still, I hope she makes it.”

Harry returned to Gia’s bedroom. Ash ignored the commotion in there, simply fell to sleep.

* * *

Ash was woken up, it was still dark.

“Ash,” Harry said.

Ash woke.

“Found your girlfriend,” Harry said, “In Leeds, Snuffles checked on her, and she’s coming back. I presume the muggle report of a high speed chase that ended badly, that was you.”

“I’m not going to lie,” Ash said.

“You and I will need to talk later,” Harry said, “Get some rest.”

Harry left the bedroom. Ash tried to sleep, but couldn’t. Several hours later, he was brought back to reality.

“What the fuck are _you_ doing here in _my_ bed?” Andy demanded. She was starkers.

“I thought we—” Ash started as he stood up. His dick wasn’t dribbling.

“You thought WRONG!” Andy said, “We’re through, get out.”

“What?!” Ash stammered as Harry peered in from the landing.

“You’re just plain _weird_ and getting all on my case—” Andy said.

“You STOLE from Harry,” Ash said, “He’s the _nicest_ person you could ever—”

“GET OUT!” Andy said, “I HATE YOU!”

“FINE!” Ash snapped, he grabbed his bookbag.

“FASTER!” Andy shouted, gave Ash a shove.

“FUCK YOU!” Ash seethed as he was now in the upper landing; Harry stood behind him.

“YOU ALREADY DID!” Andy retorted

“I HOPE YOUR CHLAMYDIA COMES BACK!” Ash shouted.

“Cross my path again, and I CASTRATE!” Andy snapped.

“ANDREA OSBORN!” Kristen shouted up the stairs, “GET DOWN HERE!”

“I hope you—” Ash started to snap to Andy.

“Go to hell,” Andy retorted as she stomped down the stairs.

“In the car, now,” Kristen said.

Ash slid down with his back against Harry, to the floor, started to think about what they did have, a few short days, they were meant to be.

“It’s still dark,” Andy protested.

“Dr. Gordon handles emergencies,” Kristen said.

“I’m naked!” Andy protested.

Ash had seen inside her, and he’d shown her everything; now, their love had turned into hate. Ash began to cry into his knees.

“That didn’t seem to affect you earlier,” Kristen said, “Do I—”

“No! No!” Andy complained.

They heard the latching of handcuffs. Kristen came back up the stairs, she was in her police uniform. Andy wailed from down below.

“Him, I want him—” Kristen started, finger pointed at Ash.

“He needs a bit of time,” Harry said, “But I’ll take care of him.”

“Thank you,” Kristen said, “Your mutt’s really smart. He found her, protected her, brought her back. I owe him a steak.”

“I think he’d want it cooked, grilled,” Harry said.

“We’ll worry about that later,” Kristen said, “Thank you.”

Kristen went down the steps. Harry reached beneath Ash’s armpits, lifted, dragged Ash into Gia’s bedroom, walked further and pulled him up onto the bed.

“What’s going on now?” Ron asked.

“A breakup,” Harry said.

“Oh,” Ron said.

Ash let Harry rearrange him. Ash moved to lay down, as Harry curled up behind. Ash felt Harry’s pubic hair on his buttocks, let it be. Ash still cried a bit, but let Harry’s rubbing of the testicles calm him down, even though his erection began to orgasm, yet again. Harry’s touch changed, and Ash found the urge to fall back to sleep.

Ash woke back up hours later; it was just him on the bed. Harry was at the desk, reading while trying to write an essay.

“How are you?” Harry asked.

Ash sighed.

“Mind explaining yesterday?” Harry asked.

“I’d rather not,” Ash said.

“Professor Dumbledore puts a lot of trust, a lot of faith, into me,” Harry said, softly, “He lets me commute because I can be responsible. I let you talk me into commuting because I thought you could be responsible, I guess I was wrong.”

“Sorry,” Ash said, “I thought I was, but with her…she…I can’t explain it.”

“I apologize too,” Harry said, “I thought you could do her good, she needs a positive influence and I thought it could be you. Suppose that pendulum goes the other way too, she influenced you in the wrong way.”

“Don’t need to worry, it ain’t happening again,” Ash said. He pulled the covers, saw the big stain in front of him, and he felt it, a sticky stain. “Guess this’ll be my life.”

“Not all the time,” Harry said, softly, “Wank periodically and it’ll not be an issue. You had that empty Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment jar yesterday, tell me all about it.”

“Yeah,” Ash said, as he started to describe the events of the previous day.

“You went along with the joyride,” Harry said.

“Sorry,” Ash said, “I didn’t think.”

Ash continued.

“If you hadn’t of had your wand and my Portkey, it’d have been much worse,” Harry said, “But it was you who put yourself into that position.”

“I know,” Ash said, disappointingly. He had let down his hero.

“Muggles reported that the car was totally destroyed and have assumed that you were totally vaporized,” Harry said, “If you had been in it, you wouldn’t have survived.”

“Yeah,” Ash said, “Saw the wreck. Where’s—?” He wanted to change the topic.

“Elsewhere,” Harry said, “You were crying.”

“Oh,” Ash said.

“That’s how I knew you were awake,” Harry said, “Get your books, get some homework in.”

Ash couldn’t disagree, and Harry seemed downright calm after what Ash and Andy had done. Ash pulled the blankets over his sticky mess, crossed his legs, and opened his bookbag.

Neither Harry nor Ash left the bedroom, except for the occasional excursion to the bathroom, for hours and hours. Daylight turned to evening. A door slam, foot steps, which Ash recognized as Andy’s returning, though he couldn’t see as the door was closed.

“Those are not your friends,” Ash said.

“You’re my focus today,” Harry said.

Ash heard the footsteps, the springs of Andy’s bed creak. Ash began to sob, he felt the pain return, of the girl who hated him. Ash got out of the bed, stood before the mirror. He surveyed the boy looking back, the soft penis hanging there, a boy that seemed foreign. The boy in the mirror was the one Andy had fallen in love with, not him. Ash sobbed a bit more. Harry got up, stood behind Ash.

“Anything I can do?” Harry asked.

“N…” Ash glanced at Harry, in the mirror, the loose balls beneath the soft penis, weight ready on the knees. “Yes, screw me.”

“Pardon?” Harry asked.

A fate that seemed perfect for the boy Ash loathed.

“My arse,” Ash said.

“You alright?” Harry asked.

“No,” Ash said, “That’s why I need this—um, do I just bend over?”

Ash, though, spun around, laid on the edge of the bed, his butt over the edge, feet planted on the ground.

“I meant it!” Ash exclaimed.

“Lemme get this straight…” Harry started.

“Do it,” Ash said, lifting his legs upward.

Ash didn’t really need it, physically, but felt like his loathing did.

“Wait for it,” Harry said, as he held Ash’s ankles.

Ash reached between his legs, pulled on Harry’s dick, felt it stiffen.

“Are you sure?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Ash said.

“Are you really sure?” Harry asked.

“I said, DO IT!” Ash snapped.

“Holler if you change your mind,” Harry said.

Harry pushed up the legs a bit more. Ash felt the tip tap between his buttocks, Harry’s cock. Ash knew neither wanted to do it, not Harry, nor him, but Ash needed it. Ash felt his anus widen as Harry pushed inward, the cock stretching his hole bigger than it had ever before, and it hurt as Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment was still lingering, still accentuating it. Ash winced.

“Alright?” Harry asked.

“Carry on,” Ash said, “Slowly.”

Ash felt the shaft slide, his anus conformed to the penetration, while Harry massaged Ash’s testicles. Once again, his ejaculation returned, wave after wave of orgasms, waves of pleasure that contrasted with the pain of Harry’s hard dick inside. Pain washed with his broken heart, the sorrow and the pain became one.

“About to—you want to see it?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Ash said.

Harry moved forward, rested his buttocks over Ash’s short erection, letting Ash’s semen spread through his butt crack. Ash held Harry’s testicles, moved Harry forward. Ash lifted his head, his torso, with his elbows on the bed as he kissed the tip of Harry’s dick, right on the slit, tongue just beneath it, as the sticky, fish like flavor, poured out. Surge after surge, warmth melded with Ash’s continuing wet orgasms, melded with the pain still in his butt, Ash didn’t move, but let it the sensation in, their mess out. Ash waited until it idled before he licked the slit, cleaned Harry’s cock, where he could taste the foul residue, what had been from inside Ash.

“Feel better?” Harry asked.

“No,” Ash replied.

“Then why—?” Harry asked as he turned to sit down next to Ash. Ash’s erection subsided, the ejaculations stopped.

“To feel used,” Ash said, “Like she used me.”

“Oh,” Harry said, “You didn’t have to. Ron was right, I should’ve said _No_ at the beginning.”

“It’s alright,” Ash said, “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“I liked you already,” Harry said, “You didn’t have to stimulate me, I’d still like you without the sex.”

“I needed it,” Ash said, finally able to put words to his emotions, “I needed to know you would, that you could still love me.”

“I can love without sex,” Harry said, “Alright?”

“I guess so,” Ash said, “It was still fun, right?”

“Yes, awkward, but yes,” Harry said.

“I’m ready to go back,” Ash said. He was done with his secret adventure away from Hogwarts.

“In the morning,” Harry said, “You can still share the bed with me.”

Ash climbed a bit further, laid into Harry, as Harry pulled the blanket over them. Ash smelled the armpit, the odor drifting up as his shoulder was tucked underneath, with his head on Harry’s shoulder. Ash’s hand held onto Harry’s softening todger, felt the foreskin between his fingers, kept his hand there despite knowing it’d become a piss fountain before morning.

Even after experiencing his own sexuality with Andy, Ash appreciated seeing and experiencing Harry’s. It meant a lot that Harry could share it, helping Ash through his time at Hogwarts and through the breakup with Andy. Ash knew he had to grow up, his dick’s new ability demanded it, but he decided to wait until morning, and enjoy sleeping with Harry one more time.

* * *

Ash held onto the Portkey, Monday morning. He fell onto Harry as they landed on Harry’s four poster bed. Been there, done that, so Ash didn’t care about Harry’s dick bouncing off of him. Instead, Ash carried his bookbag out of the sixth years’ boy dormitory, down the steps, and entered the first years; a dormitory with nine beds instead of the five that was upstairs.

“Hi,” whispered another boy, Buck.

Ash waved as he bent over, buttocks exposed.

“Eww,” said third boy, Marc.

Ash dressed, cinched up his tie, and left the dormitory. Ash walked fast, deliberate, to the Great Hall; he walked over to the Hufflepuff table, sat down next to Gale.

“Hello there,” Gale said.

“I know you didn’t mean to hurt Kermit, but you did,” Ash said.

“You’re still worked up—” Gale started.

“It was important to _me_ ,” Ash said.

“I’m sorry man,” Gale said as he gave Ash a quick hug.


	34. Tainted

“What’s got you so smiling?” Malfoy demanded at the end of Care of Magical Creatures Monday morning. A light wind blew across them beneath the mostly cloudy sky.

“Ignore him,” Ron whispered to Harry and Hermione.

“Careful Draco,” Finnigan said, “Likely planning something.”

“Bugger off,” Ron snapped.

“Lets get going,” Finnigan said, “Pathetic, the lot of you.”

Malfoy and Finnigan led the crowd of students away. Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered Hagrid’s Hut.

“So, Hagrid, what’s this news you had for us?” Harry asked.

Hagrid poured tea, offered a plate of treacle fudge.

“Yeh have lunch in a few,” Hagrid said, “So, I won’ keep yeh lon’.”

“It’s alright.” Harry sipped a bit of the tea, struggled to not grimace at the very strong and over–infused beverage.

“Dumbledore—great man,” Hagrid said.

“Uh–oh,” Ron whispered, “He’s happy.”

Hermione snorted.

“Yes?” Ron asked, “And—?”

“He’s approved,” Hagrid said, “And says I nee’ helpers—”

“The dragons?” Harry asked.

“Knew you’d help,” Hagrid said, “Eggs arrive next week and we’ll kee’ em in the castle.”

“Dragons do not like caging,” Ron warned.

“Room’s big enough while they’re small,” Hagrid said, “Enough s’each pupil has one.”

“Be careful Hagrid,” Hermione warned, “Do not interfere with Harry’s date calendar.”

Harry appreciated the thought as Hagrid smiled.

“We can figure the schedule later,” Hagrid said, “Get ter yeh lunch.”

Harry led the way out of the hut. Ron and Hermione followed.

“Blimey!” Ron said, “Any wonder on how this’ll turn out?”

Harry and Hermione chuckled, Ron joined in. Harry scratched the itch beneath his shirt collar.

“You’ve been starkers too much,” Ron said.

“No, not enough,” Harry said.

“Best get used to it,” Hermione said, “What will you do once there’s snow on the ground?”

“You’re imagining him running around starkers in the snow?” Ron asked, “What about me?”

Harry appreciated the thought, though he wasn’t certain if he wanted his balls to be freezing.

They entered the front doors of the castle, and coughed at the putrid stench as they had to stop to avoid colliding with the crowd of students. A queue of students formed a line from the Great Hall, waiting to head up the marble stairs. Crabbe was doubled over, vomiting onto the floor, one of many doing so. Others were simply coughing, but most looked awful. Malfoy turned glared at Ron, Harry, and Hermione.

“Hey,” Malfoy sneered, “It’s Weasley, Granger, and Potter coming back to the scene of the crime!”

“What’s happening?” Harry asked.

“Convenient to play dumb,” Malfoy said, “Don’t feign ignorance.”

“Excuse me?” Harry asked.

“You know what you did,” Finnigan said to Harry.

“That is enough speculation Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Finnigan,” Professor McGonagall said as she came down the steps. Her eyes fell onto Harry, Ron, and Hermione. “All students not needing medical attention are restricted to the Great Hall at this time. Otherwise, I can triage for Madam Pomfrey.”

“We’re fine,” Harry said.

“Good call, not getting yourself,” Finnigan said.

“Enough!” Professor McGonagall snapped at Finnigan.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the Great Hall, where the queue continued around the edge of the hall, all the way around the Staff Table before it wrapped to the back of the hall. They spotted familiar faces in the queue, including Ash, Ginny, Colin, Neville. They sat down at the Gryffindor Table as Dean Thomas entered the Great Hall. Out of habit, Ron reached for a platter, but his hand merely groped the wood.

“Hey!” Ron stammered.

Harry saw it too, the table was bare, as were the others.

“It’s lunch time,” Hermione said.

“I was counting on—” Ron said.

“As if you don’t already know why?” Thomas said, a potion flask in hand, “How could you do it? Poison the food?”

“We didn’t!” Harry protested.

“You’ve got, maybe an hour,” Thomas said, “Teachers aint using their brains, searching the _whole_ castle to find the culprits. Thought that’s redundant and pointless, as I’m looking at them right now!”

“We didn’t!” Harry said.

“Stay away,” Thomas said, “In fact—that end for you!” He pointed to the front end of the table.

“Come on,” Ron grumbled.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved to the front end, while Thomas went to the back.

“At least that explains the lack of food,” Hermione said.

“But I’m HUNGRY!” Ron grumbled.

“They’re playing it safe,” Harry said, “I’d expect something around dinner.”

“Dinner?!” Ron protested.

“The lunch was poisoned, they don’t know what else has!” Hermione snapped.

“Nice confession!” Macmillan said, nearing them, “Get bloody lost!”

Macmillan swigged his flask, sat at the Hufflepuff Table. Hermione opened her bookbag, took out Gazetteer of Exotic Potions .

“Do you think that’s the best thing to be reading right now?” Harry asked.

“Of course not,” Hermione said as she put it back, “Runes should be safe, right?”

“Think so,” Ron said, “Don’t by chance have anything else in there for an empty stomach?”

“Only if you like fiber,” Harry said as he crumpled up a sheet of parchment, handed it to Ron, “Bon Appetite.”

“Ta,” Ron grumbled.

Hermione read her book, worked on an essay. Harry kept his head on his armed, watched her hand move the quill around.

“Wish they’d give us food,” Ron muttered, “Real food—maybe a trip—?”

“No,” Harry said, “I’m not that thick.”

A bit more time passed before Neville Longbottom entered, came over.

“How could you?” Longbottom said, “Have you had to swallow a beozar before? Don’t.”

Longbottom moved down to sit with Thomas and Finnigan. Ash entered, merely waved, before he went to sit with Gale at the Hufflepuff table.

“Suppose you could distract everybody,” Ron said to Harry, “Jump up onto the table and give everybody a strip tease. It’d cheer Hermione up.”

“You do it,” Harry said, “Doubt it’d help our case.”

They waited, as more students came in, with the occasional jab at them. Several hours later, as the clock chimed four, Professor McGonagall entered the Great Hall and she came right over for Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

“BUSTED!” came the chime of voices in the Great Hall.

“Follow me,” Professor McGonagall said.

Hermione quickly gathered her things, the three followed.

“Good bye!” Finnigan chimed, “It wasn’t nice knowing you!”

Applause and hoots as Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the Great Hall.

“Needless to say,” Professor McGonagall said, “It is not a good day for the house of Gryffindor.”

* * *

Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the Headmaster’s office; Professor McGonagall was right behind them. Professor Dumbledore’s desk was exceptionally clear of its usual instruments, instead, was a small collection of things. A cauldron, vials of a clear liquid, other vials that were empty, and a collection of ingredients in various stages of preparation. Professor Dumbledore was sitting behind the desk, his eyes were not twinkling as they kept their focus on Harry, Ron, and Hermione standing there. Standing next to the Headmaster, Professor Snape took the opportunity to break the silence.

“Care to explain?” Professor Snape said, dryly, his fingers pointed to the desk, “These were in your possession, in your dormitories, in your trunks. These ingredients are the same as those stolen from my private stores last week. You forgot to clean, again, for the cauldrons and these vials contain the same poison that was in today’s lunch.”

“I would like an answer too,” Professor Dumbledore said, sternly, “Do not make me repeat myself.”

“I have no explanation sir.” Harry swallowed hard under Dumbledore’s gaze. “I have not seen those things before.”

Ron shook his head. Hermione too.

“You lie,” Professor Snape said, as he continued his glare, “You have collaborated before, so when we found the ingredients in Potter’s trunk, the towel covered cauldron next to Granger’s, and the vials in Weasley’s—”

“We did not!” Harry said, “When would we have had the time? We spent the entire morning at Hagrid’s for class and then a chat only to return to be accused of _this_.”

“Do not talk out of turn Potter,” Professor Snape said, “Your continual altercations with Mr. Malfoy is sufficient motivation—”

“Risk getting my sister?!” Ron said, “A Slytherin might sacrifice them, but I value my friends.”

“Just what friends do you have left?” Professor Snape said, “You have been caught with the means in your possession, within locked trunks, to brew such a potion—”

“We’re capable of that?” Harry stammered, eyes flirted between Professors Snape and Dumbledore.

“Yes!” Professor Snape said.

“Malfoy might stoop to this,” Harry said, “Not me.”

Professor McGonagall took a deep breath, her expression remained unchanging with her paper thin mouth.

“Motivation aside,” Professor McGonagall said, “From our analysis—these devices were used in making the poison and they were found in your possession. Surely, you have some explanation as you three do have the expertise to brew such a poison.”

“I don’t,” Harry said, “I…it must’ve been planted, to frame us.”

“In locked trunks?” Professor Snape asked, dryly.

“You opened them,” Ron said, “Besides, he doesn’t lock his trunk, nor do I.”

“Then you accuse a fellow Gryffindor,” Professor McGonagall said.

“I did not do this, I did not have a hand in it,” Harry said, “Therefore, these items were planted.”

“We do have enemies,” Hermione said.

“In case you haven’t noticed,” Harry said, “The entire school is pissed at us, so they _all_ would have motivation to frame us, by planting incriminating evidence into our **unlocked** trunks. Even if it weren’t a Gryffindor, plenty would be willing to stand by and watch.” His eyes turned on Professor Snape. “Did they bribe you to—”

“Steady yourself Mr. Potter,” Professor Dumbledore said, before he exiled, stared forward for a moment.

Professor Snape waited, in anticipation of the next words from Professor Dumbledore.

“Albus—” Professor McGonagall pleaded.

Professor Dumbledore raised his hand, just a trifle. He slowly walked over to his pensieve, and used his wand to pull out a few strands of white fluff from his head, before he added it to the silvery pool. They all quietly waited as the Headmaster studied the thoughts flowing in front of him, the shimmering light reflected into his face. A few minutes later, Professor Dumbledore closed the cabinet, turned around.

“They are free to go,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Headmaster—” Professor Snape began to protest.

“As you were Severus,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I have made my decision.”

“Thank you,” Harry said.

“Harry,” Professor Dumbledore said. He walked slowly over to them. “This is likely the prelude to troubling times. I urge you to exercise a measure of caution and restraint as you go about your affairs. People are watching, and even misinformation can tarnish your reputation.”

“I know,” Harry said.

“Fortunately, I’ve been informed that dinner will be served as scheduled,” Professor Dumbledore said as he sat back down, “Have a wonderful evening.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the office.

“You astound me, Headmaster,” Professor Snape said, “You failed to consider the facts!”

“Severus!” Professor McGonagall said, “He’s an old man.”

“I am perfectly aware of his condition,” Professor Snape said.

“Of which you are responsible,” Professor McGonagall said, “If it weren’t for your hand—”

“That which is already done, is done,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I have considered the evidence on hand.”

“Potter has a history of violating the rules, a myriad of which would be the same as broken today,” Professor Snape said, angrily, “Not only are they capable of pulling off this little stunt, incriminating evidence was clearly in their possession, evidence of their ongoing campaign to harass and injure every student within Hogwarts. Nobody will be safe if we let them hone their craft. While, fortunately, today’s brew was not lethal, tomorrow’s could easily be.”

“We simply need more information,” Professor McGonagall said, “Only the lunch itself was poisoned, not the stores, which, in light of Hagrid’s testimony—”

“Highly suspect,” Professor Snape sneered.

“Hagrid is extremely generous, but simplistic,” Professor Dumbledore said, slowly, “Rubeus could not successfully lie if he wanted to. Their alibis stands, so they did not have the opportunity to poison the lunch. Even if you believed that they had brewed the poison—how stable is that poison?”

“Limited grade that even Longbottom could brew his first year,” Professor Snape said, “It’ll be inert within hours.”

“Harry’s theory is just as disturbing as it is plausible,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Any student could brew it, any collaborating Gryffindor could plant the evidence. More information is needed, because, as you pointed out, the next action could be more drastic.”

Professor Snape grunted.

“Severus,” Professor Dumbledore continued, “I expect you to examine the vials for fingerprints and other possible clues.”

“They should be _expelled_ ,” Professor Snape said as he grabbed the vials.

Professor Snape’s loud footsteps echoed as he moved fast out of the office and out the door. Professor McGonagall closed the door, turned around, and her eyes looked directly at the half moon spectacles on the old face.

“I must unfortunately concur with Severus,” Professor McGonagall said as she paced back to the desk, “Under normal circumstances, those students would have been expelled, if only in the interest of the general safety of those at Hogwarts. Yesterday it was assaults, today it was poison, and who knows what tomorrow will bring given the murders in Hogsmeade. The perpetrators are obviously dangerous folks we best keep away from Hogwarts.”

“Expulsion would be unfair to Mr. Potter,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“You know as well as I do that it unfortunately becomes necessary to sacrifice one in order to save the whole, in this case, Hogwarts and its students,” Professor McGonagall said, “As regrettable as the suggestion is, we may have to inflict it on Mr. Potter to save the rest.”

“Mr. Potter’s affairs are always unusual,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Any other student would be leaving already under these circumstances. However, you know very well of the external influence that very interested in seeing Mr. Potter removed from Hogwarts, a move that would benefit their plans immensely. Rest assured that my decision is not taken lightly, I am very aware it may bring us pain, but I believe the pain would be greater if we surrendered on Mr. Potter.”

“Understood,” Professor McGonagall said, “The rest of the students will not be as sympathetic.”

“Also,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Please keep a sharp lookout for our friends, I expect they may need the assistance.”

* * *

An owl delivered Witch Weekly to Hermione as soon as she and Ron entered the Great Hall. Just as quickly, wands were drawn; Ron and Hermione felt themselves being banished out of the Great Hall. Ron went back to try the door, it would not budge.

“I told you it was a bad idea,” Hermione said.

“I’m hungry!” Ron protested, “Starving!”

“Maybe we ought to write them an apology,” Hermione said.

“We did nothing wrong,” Ron said.

“You’re not going to convince them of that,” Ginny said as she came by.

“You let us in,” Ron said.

“No,” Ginny said, “I don’t want to share in your fate—I’m already under suspicion because I’m _your_ sister.”

“Don’t acknowledge it,” Ron said.

“I try not to,” Ginny said, “I’d recommend making other plans if I were you.”

“Fine,” Ron said, “Lets see how much Treacle Fudge Hagrid has.”

“Oh, that _is_ desperate,” Ginny said, “Bye.”

Ginny entered the Great Hall, the door promptly shut behind her.

“There is the other option,” Hermione said.

“Yeah,” Ron said, “Come.”

Ron led Hermione down the Ground floor corridor, entered an empty classroom. Ron took out his Hogwarts pin, activated it. Hermione touched it and held on.

Hoot!

“Harry!” Ron shouted.

“You don’t know—” Hermione started.

“Down here!” came the reply.

Ron went out to the upper landing. Harry was at the bottom, already stripped, the soft todger hanging there.

“I figured you’d have issues,” Harry said as Ron came down the steps.

“Really?” Ron asked.

“According to them, we poisoned their food,” Harry said, “What’d ya expect?”

“You’re going out like that?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “It’s like, sixty, my balls are loose, it’s alright.”

Ron and Hermione glanced at Harry’s, hanging just behind his foreskin covered todger.

“Follow, don’t follow, strip, or don’t,” Harry said, “I’m getting her.”

“I’ll come,” Ron said, taking a few steps.

“I’ll order the pizza—say an hour?” Hermione asked, Witch Weekly still curled in her hand

“I’d say you want to study…” Ron went back up, grabbed the Witch Weekly , opened it. On the front was Colin Creevy, from head down to his circumcised penis on the Quidditch pitch.

“And see what your Quidditch practice was like,” Hermione said.

“I told ya,” Ron said.

Ron flipped the pages, nearly the entire magazine was filled with pictures of Colin.

“Ginny had a hand?” Harry asked.

“And how,” Ron said, “Witches now know more about him than he does.” One of the centerfolds had the closeup, of Colin getting the hard erection. “Hermione’s interested in studying this.”

“A different perspective is very important in keeping our relationship healthy,” Hermione said.

“Yeah, whatever, so long as I can bang,” Ron said, “Give you a preview.”

Ron pulled his shirt off, dropped his trousers including his boxers, and his shoes.

“Don’t get lost,” Hermione said.

“Of course not,” Ron said, as he went back down the stairs. He opened another centerfold, a close up, a revolving close up as Colin ejaculated. “Yeah, they took you at your word Harry.”

Ron put Witch Weekly down, followed Harry out the door. While not roasting hot, it wasn’t icy cold either, and Ron felt his balls loosen as him and Harry walked along.

“Good,” Harry said, “Colin simply needed to know that there’s a difference between going around starkers, and being photographed going starkers. I like going around like this, doesn’t mean I want it in the paper.”

“You can ask him,” Ron said, “Speaking of Saturday, were you just trying to piss Ginny off or were you serious?”

They started across the zebra crossing. Harry halted, spun around.

“Partially both,” Harry said, “See…”

Harry reached, held Ron’s soft todger in the palm of the right hand. A touch of Harry’s thumb to the foreskin, and both watched the shaft stiffen. Ron glanced at Harry’s, also stiffening.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “It’s what I thought.”

“Harry?” Ron asked.

Harry’s left fingers touched Ron’s nipples, those too, firmed up, along with Harry’s.

“Figured our dicks are willing,” Harry said.

Harry turned, walked along. Ron followed.

“I’m not—” Ron started.

“You love me and I love you,” Harry said, “That’s great! It is, really.”

“I thought Gia—” Ron started.

“My bang of first choice,” Harry said, “You’ve done my arse… I was just saying that if you need me to do your arse, I won’t turn you away, I’d lend my dick.”

“You had me worried,” Ron said.

“I simply love you,” Harry said, “I want you in my life…always. I trust you, even with my dick.”

“You feeling alright?” Ron asked, as it was getting a bit mushy for him.

“Yep,” Harry said, leading the way into the brick building.

Harry and Ron came onto the deck for the pool.

“Gia!” shouted Tracey, “Your boyfriend—oh, gorgeous, you’ attract them all!”

Gia came to a halt in the pool, her bare breasts hung out.

“You’re downright contagious Harry,” Ron said.

“Like you can talk,” Tracey said, looking up, in her two piece red bikini, “Can I borrow you for a moment?”

“How?” Ron asked as he knelt.

“I’ll let you know,” Tracey said.

It took Ron a moment to understand, her gaze, studying his hard erection jutting out from beneath his red pubic hair.

“Aw,” Ron said.

“Got any more hot boys up your—you don’t have sleeves either,” Tracy said.

“Just him,” Gia said, “Harry’s best friend.”

“Can I share?” Tracey asked.

“I’m taken,” Ron said.

“I won’t tattle,” Tracey replied.

“Fuck!” Nate exclaimed, “More competition?”

“Don’t think it, Mister,” Gia said to the blond haired boy, “We’ll rip your balls off you.”

“Easy,” Tracey said.

“Just keeping him in line,” Gia said, “I don’t really mean it.”

“Once you’re done, we’ll have fun,” Harry said to Gia.

“I’m jealous,” Tracey said.

Ron blushed, as his dick was being compared with Harry’s, by multiple girls, while his balls hung loose and freely beneath.

“I’m done,” Gia said, pulling herself out. Water drained from her nipples, her labia, her fingers, her buttocks, and more, as she stood up.

“Of course, don’t blame you,” Tracey said.

“I’ve got a hardon too,” Nate said, hands shielding his green shorts with the yellow stripe, his eyes on Gia’s naked body standing there.

Snuffles walked next to Ron, both followed Harry and Gia out of the pool. Ron found his eyes focused on their butts. He watched Gia’s for a short while, before they rested on Harry’s. Harry’s earlier words invaded Ron’s mind, kept the focus trained on the pair of buttocks flexing, the crack that slipped, while Harry’s testicles showed below and between the legs.

Ron wondered if those wads of flesh were alright, whether Harry was just sugar coating or if the words were genuine. Ron knew that Harry cared, loved, deeply, so Ron wasn’t always sure if Harry meant what he said. They had spent a lot of time together, both dressed and not, especially over the summer. They were comfortable with their dicks, and the other’s. Ron couldn’t discern a lie from a truth when it came to Harry’s vow to lend off the todger quite like that; however, it would be fair play, in light of that disastrous package a month earlier. Truth be told, Ron still had that new perspective on Harry, one that had removed Ron’s instinct to look away.

* * *

Harry opened the green door in the orange brick of 26 Oak St, he let Gia in. Ron and Snuffles followed. Harry heard the familiar scratching, followed it into the dining room. Hermione was starkers, at the table, writing on the parchment. She dipped her quill into the inkjar and kept writing.

“Thank you,” Ron said.

“Harry’s worked on me too,” Hermione said, “I confess, it is more comfortable.”

“It’s always in style,” Ron said.

“Thank you for that compliment,” Hermione stated, her eyes still on her parchment.

“What’s up?” Gia asked.

“Nothing,” Hermione said.

Gia grabbed Witch Weekly and thumbed through it.

“Interesting classmate of yours,” Gia said, “So, he’s into photography, has a brother, and is on the Quidditch team. He’s supposedly got a girlfriend, can’t see why. His father even delivers milk.”

“You’re mocking me,” Hermione said.

“Colin’s made himself into my personal paparazzi,” Harry said, “I wanted him to understand before he kept pressing that damn button.”

“And you want to fuck Ron in the arse,” Gia said.

“What?” Harry stammered.

“I take it you didn’t proofread the article,” Gia said.

“You have been talking pretty dirty,” Ron said to Harry.

“What’s wrong with us being friends?!” Harry quipped.

“Well, if it’s in this paper, it must be true,” Gia said, “Hermione, best clear off a bit of the table.”

“No,” Hermione said, “As interested as I may be, I’d rather not lose my place.”

“Guess it’s upstairs, boys,” Gia said, “Do you think you can manage by yourselves or do you need a chaperon?”

Hermione giggled.

“We best be hearing the springs squeak!” Gia said.

“Come on,” Ron said.

Harry and Ron went back out, up the stairs.

“We can make the bed squeak,” Ron said as they entered Gia’s bedroom.

“Yeah,” Harry said as he sat on the bed, “They probably just wanted time to gossip.”

“Probably,” Ron said as he sat next to Harry’s right, “You have been talking smack.”

“Why’s it so unfathomable,” Harry said, “There’s you and Hermione, there’s me and Gia, there’s you and Gia—”

“At your request,” Ron said.

“And me and Hermione, even Gia and Hermione,” Harry said, “Why not you and me?”

“We tried it, that package, remember?” Ron said, “It affected me!”

“Yeah, but we’ve blown each other too,” Harry said, “Yet, we’ve missed the bigger picture.”

“What bigger picture?” Ron asked.

Harry turned his head, his eyes locked onto Ron’s blue.

“You,” Harry said, “For fifteen years, you were the youngest brother, picked on, teased, stolen from, and still are, because, lets face it, Edward has immunity, for now. You couldn’t pass it on to Ginny, not really, because your Mum kept a protective eye on her.”

“Yeah, so?” Ron said.

“Always worrying when something good comes your way that it’d get stolen from you again,” Harry said, “Lemme tell you something, Ronald Weasley.”

“What?” Ron asked.

“You’re the best damn Weasley that’s come my way,” Harry said, “I’ll be damned if the same happens again—not even Ginny can manage it.”

“Thank you, I guess,” Ron said.

“Know what?” Harry asked.

“What?” Ron replied.

“Time to show you how good you really are,” Harry said, his left hand rubbed Ron’s nipple.

“It’s supposed to be a gag,” Ron said, “They were yanking our chains.”

“I trust Gia’s intuition,” Harry said, “If she thinks its best for us to use her bed to do it, then I agree with her.”

“You didn’t take a delivery, by chance?” Ron asked.

Harry’s right hand held his other nipple, pushed. Ron yielded, laid back on the bed. Harry straddled Ron, peered down at those blue eyes, while his hands worked Ron’s pectorals. Harry studied the eyes a bit more, the twitching, understood the confusion, the perplexion, that his freckled red haired friend was having.

“I guess the question is do you _want_ me to explore your arse?” Harry asked.

“Can’t say no, can’t say yes,” Ron said.

Harry leaned forward, their erections pushed against each other, their balls came together as Harry held them together, their nipples touched, and Harry kissed Ron on the lips.

“We’ve explored every other angle of this four way friendship,” Harry said, “I’d like to explore it with you too.”

“Guess that’s acceptable,” Ron said.

“Because our love is deeper than friendship,” Harry said, “I really do want to know if it goes deeper. May I come in?”

“Yes,” Ron replied. Harry studied the eyes, saw the acceptance, the relief within.

Harry began to kiss Ron on the neck, the hands massaged to keep their erections hard. Harry moved, sniffed the armpits, tasted the flavor, stuck his tongue out.

“Heh,” Ron muttered.

Harry let go of their testicles when he felt another set of fingers working them. Harry massaged Ron’s shoulders as he let the cocks joust against each other. Harry moved a bit further back, kept his hands working Ron’s stomach, watched the eyes betray the pleasure. Harry felt the slickness, a lube being applied to his cock. Harry reached, pulled Ron’s legs upward, around Harry. Harry moved his cock, the tip touched the testicles for a moment before he flexed. His tip found the crevice, pulled back, pushed, until it found the seat. Tight squeeze and Harry pushed, his hard cock slipped inside Ron.

“Having fun?” Ron asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, his hands felt Ron’s red pubic hair for a moment, before they steadied themselves for a firm grip on the hips.

Harry began to do as he knew to do, pulling a short ways, before pushing, repeatedly drilling into Ron. Harry felt Ron’s bollocks hit the abdomen, a bumper that brushed against the black pubic hair.

“Hey,” came the voice of Andy, “Where’s Ash?”

Harry didn’t register it, instead, kept drilling.

“Oh,” Andy said.

Harry ignored it, Ron being more important. Harry knew he had to make a decision in a moment, as his cock was tensing and relaxing, in anticipation. Harry pulled out, moved until his cock aligned with Ron’s, laid forward, the cocks between them. Harry reached between them, the erections pressed together, felt Ron’s next to his, felt their pubic hair pushed together around it, and teased. A tickle, a touch, and Harry felt the pumping action seduce his own, Ron’s orgasm triggered Harry’s. Together, their dicks timeshared the tight space that both urethraes occupied. Harry studied the blue eyes that were studying him back, a mutual bliss as the sticky mess surged between them, their semen intertwined onto their skin. Ron breathed, Harry breathed, and they exhaled.

“Okay,” Ron whispered, “That was good.”

“Interesting,” Hermione said.

Harry felt no shame in sharing this with her, nor with Gia holding the tube of lube. He now know who was letting him and Ron focus on each other. Harry laid there.

“Where’s Ash?” Andy repeated.

“Yes, where is your shadow?” Gia asked.

Harry pushed up.

“Ron, you’re the Weasley I’ll fuck,” Harry said, “Something your brothers nor sister don’t have.”

Harry stood up, he didn’t bother to wipe, let the semen cling, hang from him

“Get some honey,” Gia said.

Harry walked across the landing, down the steps, Andy followed.

“I demand to see Ash!” Andy yelled.

Harry turned around, pointed at Andy.

“ _You_ broke up with him,” Harry said.

“He thought I was being serious?” Andy asked.

“He took you at your word,” Harry said, “He believed you, and so he ain’t tagging along. He ain’t coming back.”

“This is so unfair!” Andy protested.

“Ash is kind, very kind, boy,” Harry said, “But I won’t have you dick around with him. I’m sorry you regret it, but in life, you only get one chance.”

Andy swung her foot, hooked it onto Harry’s freshly juiced testicles.

“Never do that again,” Harry warned, eyes glaring.

Andy screamed, ran up the stairs. Sobs were heard from her bedroom, along with kicks and stomps. Harry started across the living room.

“Harry,” Kristen said.

Harry stopped, noticed her eyes giving him a quick glance, the semen still clung to him.

“She—” Harry started to protest. However, he couldn’t divulge too much, especially as Andy’s tactics had actually helped Harry; she had saved Harry from having to break them up as Andy was clearly a corrupting influence on Ash. “Ash was with me, he commuted, with me, from my school to see her. When she broke it off, Ash had no reason to follow me.”

“I wanted to say thank you,” Kristen said, “She needs to experience the consequences of her actions, maybe she’ll learn from them.”

“You’re welcome,” Harry said.

“And after her tirade yesterday, you’ll need the combination for the honey,” Kristen said, “I’ll show you.”

Harry and Kristen went into the kitchen.


	35. Cold Shoulder

Windows of the Great Hall were still dark, some dew on the interior, as Ron and Hermione entered Tuesday morning. Every table was still bare.

“As predicted, we’re the first,” Hermione said.

“First time Harry’s running did us good,” Ron said, “Woke us up to get here early.”

“It does him good too,” Hermione said, “Routine exercise is good for the health.”

They came to Gryffindor Table, sat at their usual location.

“Well,” Ron said, “Where’s the food?’

Poof

Several dishes appeared right around them.

“You know how the House Elfs do it,” Hermione said.

Ron reached for a sausage, he smelled it, brought it toward his mouth.

“STOP!” came the loud voice.

Ron and Hermione glanced. Professor Snape and Seamus Finnigan had entered.

“Does it look like the hours of breakfast?” Professor Snape asked.

“We thought we’d eat early—” Ron started.

“Put it down,” Professor Snape said.

“They’re still at it,” Finnigan said, “Seconds away—I don’t want to end up in the Hospital Wing, again!”

“The entire kitchen is going to have to be checked, again, because of your antics,” Professor Snape said, “Get out before it becomes a week of detention.”

Ron put the sausage down. Him and Hermione got up, went for the back.

“Glad we put an alarm on the door,” Finnigan said.

Ron and Hermione left.

“So much for the idea of getting in early!” Ron snapped.

“It was worth a try,” Hermione said.

They went up to the library, which was otherwise empty, until after the sun rose.

“I’m even hungrier,” Ron muttered.

They left the library as a fifth year girl approached. She actively looked away from them, avoided eye contact, as Ron and Hermione passed. Ron and Hermione, again, went down the flights of steps, down the marble stairs.

“Finally,” Ron exclaimed, as the smells of sausage wafted out the doors.

Quickly, the doors closed. Two pairs of hands pushed a brace between the handles.

“This door is CLOSED for student SAFETY!” Roger Davies announced.

“This breakfast is SECURED from those who’d poison it,” Ernie Macmillan said, he kept his eyes at the armor nearby, “These measures have been approved by those most concerned. Do not breach, for blood does not go well as an appetizer.”

“That’s for us,” Hermione said to Ron.

“You know, a simple _You’re not wanted_ would suffice!” Ron shouted.

Ron and Hermione went back up the marble stairs. Ron’s stomach growled.

* * *

“Ron and Hermione went ahead,” Harry said, as he ran next to Richard beneath the cloudy sky, with only a gentle breeze of moist air blowing over them. He felt his balls swinging freely, that sensation he had gotten to love.

“What’d you think will happen?” Richard asked.

“It’s not like I can blame the others,” Harry said, “They think I’m a raving lunatic—”

“You’re not,” Richard said.

“Thank you,” Harry said.

“You run around starkers, you bang wherever, even piss as you wish,” Richard said, “That doesn’t make you a lunatic.”

“Thanks,” Harry muttered.

“Surely, the teachers ought to step in,” Richard said.

“The Headmaster believes me, so it’s what got the others pissed,” Harry said, “In the meanwhile, we’re not going to be able to eat with the rest of the students—Ron’s going hungry now, and that’s not a pretty sight.”

They came to the crossing with Macy, and stopped. Harry bent over and glanced past his balls showing to those walking behind them.

“I don’t want to force the other students,” Harry said, “It’d just make things worse.”

“Why do you have to eat in this…Great Hall of yours?” Richard said, “Surely, they could be accommodating until the problem is resolved.”

The traffic came to a halt, and the signal cleared for them. Harry and Richard returned to running, their bare toes worked on the dry asphalt. 

Pfffpt!

“Disgusting,” Harry said as he glanced fast enough to see a small brown wad shoot out of Richard’s butt, only to go splat on the pavement behind them.

“Better out than in,” Richard said.

“True,” Harry said.

They ran a bit more as Harry kept mulling it over.

“I know what to do,” Harry said as it occurred to him as they came back to 26 Oak St.

“What?” Richard asked.

“Thanks for letting me talk it over,” Harry said as he went up the stairs.

“No problem,” Richard said.

Harry went into the shower and his mind began to wander as he lathered up his loose balls. If he did as he was planning to do, it’d mean that Hogwarts was starting to break for him, for Ron, and for Hermione, to start segregating himself from the others. It’s not something Harry wanted to do, but at the same time, it’d be unfair to force the others to accept him, in light of the allegations, it’d be an injury against them, and he wasn’t going to injure those he wished to still be friends. He rinsed and dried, returned to Gia’s bedroom.

“Good morning Hedwig,” Harry said to his owl as he handed her a treat, “Find anything interesting?”

Hoot!

“See you later,” Harry said as he stroked a couple of feathers.

Harry grabbed his Portkey, wand, and tapped. After the usually short trip, Harry landed on his four poster bed, and crawled out. He caught sight of the hastily posted signs tacked to both his bed and Ron’s.

UNDESIRABLE!

Harry felt the sorrow. Five years earlier, he had shown up, made friends, and Hogwarts became more of a home than the Dursleys ever were, more than sweet Mrs. Weasley could manage though her heart was in the right place. A home he had helped to defend even the previous spring. Now, it felt like it was being ripped away, bit by bit. To do as he was about to suggest would simply acknowledge what was happening, that Hogwarts never was meant to be a home, simply a school to learn.

Harry slung his bookbag around his shoulder, went down the steps, out of Gryffindor Tower, down. He walked past the two students guarding the door to the Great Hall, and down more stairs.

“Mr. Potter,” came the voice, the familiar voice, as Harry tickled the pear on the painting.

The painting opened, moved to permit entry into the kitchens.

“Come,” Harry said to Professor McGonagall.

Harry entered the Kitchen.

“I was about to extend the hours for the Great Hall,” Professor McGonagall said, “For people, such as yourself.”

Harry took a moment.

“I appreciate the effort,” Harry said, “However, the other students don’t trust me, Ron, nor Hermione; while they’re wrong in their interpretation, we don’t have all the facts to persuade them otherwise. I’ve lost their respect, and frankly, I think it’d be wrong to try to compel it. Respect has to be earned, not gifted. In the meanwhile, if I’m to study at Hogwarts, then I need a spot to do that.”

“What did you have in mind?” Professor McGonagall said, “As much as I would like, we cannot just build new dormitories for each special case that may come through.”

“Dobby is happy to help Harry Potter!” said the House Elf.

“Nothing so grandiose,” Harry said, “Dobby, my friends and I…well, the other students aren’t letting us eat in the Great Hall. So, I was wondering, can you get an extra table, doesn’t have to be big, just enough for about four people or so, up into my dormitory — and see that it has all the meals, as usual?”

“Sharing a common table is essential to the comradery of a House,” Professor McGonagall said.

“I know,” Harry said, “But until such time as they’re willing to let us share it, to partake on it, Ron’s going to get very hungry. Nor can we study in the library in peace. There’s only one other spot that Ron, Hermione, and I can do it, but that’s not at Hogwarts, which, would be a rotten shame.”

“Dobby understands,” Dobby said, “It will be done.”

Dobby snapped his fingers, vanished.

“I do not want to see the house of Gryffindor broken,” Professor McGonagall said.

“Nor do I … and I want to uphold it the best I can,” Harry said, “Unfortunately, I think it’s already breaking.”

“Then I will do what I can to slow its downfall,” Professor McGonagall said, “A table is a reasonable idea, as to the Library, every student must be allowed to use it. I will see you in class this afternoon.”

“Thank you,” Harry said.

Harry left the kitchens, went up the steps, and headed for his Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Ahead, Ron had his fists out, glared at Finnigan.

“Take that back!” Ron shouted at Finnigan.

Seamus Finnigan ignored Ron, went into the classroom.

“It’s alright,” Hermione said.

“It’s not alright,” Ron said.

“Did I miss something?” Harry asked.

“They called me a Mudcow,” Hermione said.

“Oh,” Harry muttered.

“They shouldn’t—” Ron started as his stomach growled.

“I agree, Ron,” Hermione said, “We can’t go picking fights.”

“Class,” Harry said.

They went in.

* * *

After Charms, Harry tugged.

“Upstairs,” Harry said.

“You know, lunch,” Ron said as his stomach growled, “I didn’t get breakfast.”

“Trust me,” Harry said.

They came to the Fat Lady.

“Password?” the Fat Lady challenged.

“Poison,” Harry said.

The portrait swung open. Harry led Ron and Hermione into the sixth years’ boys’ dormitory.

“Harry!” Hermione said.

Beds were shifted from their older, customary, positions, with a round table situated between Ron’s and Harry’s beds, halfway between the center and the window. A soft divider separated Ron’s and Harry’s four posters from the other three.

“Sit,” Harry said.

Ron sat, food appeared. Ron grabbed a sausage, sank his teeth into it.

“That’s—” Hermione started.

“Thanks!” Ron said as he chewed with his mouth open.

“I asked Dobby,” Harry said, “We needed a spot.”

“It’s only going to fuel the mistrust,” Hermione protested.

“What else can we do before Ron starves?” Harry said, “I can’t trust them with either of you. So far, it’s just been insults or a blockade, but how long until it goes further? Somebody _did_ poison yesterday’s lunch, they can do so again—I’d rather trust Dobby.”

“You’ve got a point,” Hermione said.

“I know it’s not a good one,” Harry said, “But your lives matter, to me.”

“It is nice to have,” Ron said, working on a ham steak.

Hermione sat, grabbed a sandwich.

“It sucks, I know,” Harry said.

After they finished lunch, they left, went to the Library, entered. Quickly, the others in the library shuffled, moved, which gave Ron, Harry, and Hermione plenty of space around them. Hermione pulled a book from the shelves, brought it over.

“I’d be careful with my words if I were you,” Hermione said to Ron and Harry.

“Yeah,” Ron said, “Can we have sex, here?”

“Those are equally as bad,” Hermione said.

RING!

They got up, went to Transfiguration, where Harry sat to the front right table. Quickly, the other sixth years moved, away. A large bubble of space separated Harry with Ron and Hermione, away from the others. Macmillan bumped shoulders between Thomas and Finnigan on the left side. Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws were behind them. While Malfoy and the other Slytherins were in the back.

“There is plenty of perfectly usable space just over there,” Professor McGonagall said, pointing to the empty desks around Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

Everybody else shook their heads.

“Please hand in your essays,” Professor McGonagall said.

After class, Harry, Ron, and Hermione worked their way up to the seventh floor corridor, a short ways behind Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan. Thomas forced the Fat Lady painting to close fast, just before Harry came to it.

“Password?” the Fat Lady challenged.

“Poison,” Harry said.

The Fat Lady frowned and the portrait did not open.

“Ginny!” Ron shouted as he pounded.

“POISON!” Harry exclaimed.

The Fat Lady shook her head.

“I figured Ginny might help,” Ron said, “Unless she’s afraid to talk.”

“That’s stupid,” Hermione said, “Truth is always—”

“Not from her perspective,” Ron said, “She’s gotta live with them, like we do.”

“We’re Gryffindors and we want inside,” Harry said to the painting.

“Password?” the Fat Lady challenged, again.

“Guilty,” Professor McGonagall said as she walked past them. The painting swung open.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered. Every other student in the common room, turned their backs, did not watch as the three went up the stairs.

“At least we have practice today,” Ron said.

“Yep,” Harry replied as they entered the dormitory.

“I’ll be in the library then,” Hermione said.

“I’d…I’d kinda feel better if you were in here,” Ron said, “Or, come with us.”

Hermione watched as Harry and Ron stripped. Both grabbed their Firebolts, and Harry opened the window.

“I need a book,” Hermione said.

“I’ll meet up with you later,” Ron said.

Harry and Ron flew out the window into temperate air under mostly cloudy skies. Harry adjusted as the strong breeze threatened to take him off course; came down to the Quidditch Pitch.

“Our illustrious Seeker and Keeper have arrived,” Josh Brenner said, “Unfortunately. They didn’t even bother to dress appropriately.”

Ron and Harry glanced around, everybody else, including Ginny, were in their Quidditch Robes. Only they were starkers.

“Let’s practice,” Ron said, opening the box. He lifted out the Quaffle, tossed it at Ginny.

Ginny took the Quaffle, threw it at Colin, and Ron flew up. Justin and Paul Prewett let both Bludgers out, batted between them. Harry tossed out the Golden Snitch, waited. Ron hovered, in front of the goals.

“Josh—pass…” Ron watched Josh Brenner hold the Quaffle, barrel for him, when a Bludger also came at him. Ron tried to wait until Josh made the toss, however, the Bludger dictated he move, so he did.

“SCORE!” Josh Brenner said, “No good keeper to speak of.”

“Hey!” Ron snapped.

“Did you hear something?” Josh Brenner asked Justin Prewett.

“No,” Justin Prewett replied.

Ron glanced at the bare butt as Harry flew fast, circled the stadium. Ron, however, returned his eyes onto Ginny.

“Ginny—go between…” Ron shouted, before he saw his effort to be fruitless as Ginny ignored his command, passed to Brenner. “Harry—help!”

Harry flew back down, grabbed the Quaffle as it was being passed to Natalie MacDonald. He went to pass it back to Brenner, who ignored it as the Quaffle hit the ground.

“A seeker is a seeker!” Josh Brenner announced.

Harry came over to Ron.

“Ignoring you too?” Harry asked.

“Pretty much,” Ron said.

“I ain’t getting much done,” Harry said, “Think I’ll head home.”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Ron said.

Harry aimed his Firebolt, made for the castle, quickly vanished from Ron’s sight.

“Faster! Faster!” Justin Prewett exclaimed to Paul Prewett. They kept trying to hit both Bludgers between them faster and faster, harder and harder.

“Justin! Paul!” Ron shouted, to both of them, a few yards away, “Hit those at Josh!”

SMACK! SMACK!

Both Bludgers barreled toward Ron. Ron blacked out.

* * *

Hermione admitted to herself that Harry’s idea was nice. She hadn’t left the dormitory at all, the thought of walking through the other students, it was easier to stay where she knew she was wanted, where she could simply lounge in nothing at all. She had The Daily Prophet in her hands.

Minister Rebuffs Odd Dumbledore Request

In a somewhat controversial move, Minister for Magic, Victor Fallerschain, has rebuffed the olive branch extended by Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry . Minister Fallerschain issued a statement.

“I admit being a bit baffled by the audacity of the request, this coming from a man who, if the reports are accurate, is having trouble maintaining discipline and order at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry ; I heard just yesterday that a student managed to poison their lunch, fortunately no casualties apart from a little indignation. I mean no disrespect because teaming up would indeed be a wise move, but against an enemy that was vanquished years ago. The old man was, of course, invaluable against Grindelwald and later, You–Know–Who; fortunately, those times are over.

“Albus Dumbledore is still sharp in the mind, so I doubt this is merely old age creeping in. Instead, if the Headmaster wishes to reminiscence, I suggest a good pint at the Three Broomsticks or the Leaky Cauldron where he’d certainly find an audience. I’m sure that Albus Dumbledore has at least one or two interesting stories to tell, perhaps enough for a good book — if that’s his goal, then I wish him well.”

Hermione sighed as Harry came in through the window. She glanced at the swaying penis beneath the black pubic hair.

“I thought you were going to be in the library,” Harry said.

“I thought you were going to be at practice for a bit longer,” Hermione said.

“Quidditch team isn’t immune to the way the others are treating us,” Harry said.

“They didn’t run you off?” Hermione asked.

“No, wouldn’t play,” Harry said, “Seemed better to simply head—you know where.”

“Maybe stay and explain to the others—” Hermione said.

“Explain what?” Harry said, “They know Voldemort is still out there, still trying to get to me. But they also see the actions that are injuring them—it’s not me, but that doesn’t change the fact that they’re bearing the brunt of these attacks. I don’t resent them for what they’re feeling, it’s utterly understandable, and if I weren’t the Boy–Who–Lived, I’d likely be siding with them.”

“They’re still giving us the cold shoulder,” Hermione said.

“And they’ve got that right,” Harry said, “It’s best to just give them a little space, and once the truth is known, they’ll relax and we’ll be back to normal. We’ve been through this before.”

“I know,” Hermione said, “I think rationally too, just this time feels deeper. I can’t shake it.”

“If we force it—it’ll blow up in our faces,” Harry said, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Harry turned, shook his bare butt for Hermione, let his balls sway, as he grabbed his Portkey. Harry activated it, and vanished. A moment later, Ash came into the dormitory, fast.

“Did Harry—?” Ash said, “Gotta come fast, Ron’s in the Hospital Wing.”

Hermione found herself dressing with same speed Harry or Ron would, in the blink of an eye as a pair of trouser and a T–shirt went nearly as fast in her hands as if they apparated into place. Hermione rushed out. Ash ducked into the first years’ boys’ dormitory before she could ask another question.

“Should give those twins a bottle of Firewhiskey,” Finnigan said to Thomas, “I’ll double it if they did it a second time, hopefully harder.”

“I simply had to bring him in,” Ginny said to Colin, “He’s my brother after all, can you explain it to them—the ones who wanted to leave him to die!”

Hermione, meanwhile, had bolted out of Gryffindor Tower. Her bare feet pressed against the cold marble as she ran to the Hospital Wing. She came to the bed with the familiar red hair, and Oliver Wood standing over it.

“Don’t worry Granger,” Oliver Wood said, “A concussion, Madam Pomfrey has him sleeping for a couple of hours while he recovers.”

“What happened?” Hermione asked.

“None of the team would tell me,” Oliver Wood said, “When Weasley wakes, remind him that he’s supposed to have a member of staff present during all practices.”

“I will,” Hermione said.

She went over to Ron, sat on the edge of the bed, grabbed his hand, and watched him sleep.

* * *

Gia pushed her arms out, pulled back, while she held her feet together to kick in unison; she was improving at swimming the butterfly stroke while also starkers. Her breasts were unrestrained, added a bit of drag, and were forcing her to swim harder. However, without the cloth of a swimsuit, she didn’t feel the binding. Thus, Gia figured she was breaking even in swimming starkers in front of her classmates, her potential teammates when her provisional status is upgraded.

Harry had given her the confidence to let her body be seen, and she found it enjoyable. Her teammates had already acclimated, though she still saw the blushes, the excuses as the boys tried to conceal or promote their stiffies beneath the swim trunks. Nate and Tracey had already stopped, waited at the edge of the pool, as Gia kept swimming. Gia wanted to get an extra hundred yards in when Harry came through the corridor, came onto the pool deck.

Gia still remembered what it was like before Harry, where she’d flirt with a boy, grab their attention, only to feel ashamed because her body would reflect the interest, nipples that would protrude a bit further as they went erection, or a clitoris that would be considered a camel toe because she had chosen the thin cloth.

Harry, with the jet black hair, the bottle green eyes, stood there, showed the boy that had forgotten modesty when it had came to his body, the same lack of modesty he had bequeathed to her. He stretched, with the same lack of concern that she knew he had forgotten, so revealing the dark hairs coming into his arm pits. They had started with each other, then friends, before forced at Hogwarts to finish their rescue in the buff the previous spring. None of that had prepared her for his charming her, that very summer July day, to abandon all pretense, to simply embrace herself, himself, for what they were.

A naval, Harry’s belly button, in the middle of the stomach; his nipples, boys nipples, on the chest. All above the middle, the dark pubic hair added contrast that would quickly drew her attention to the penis hanging, his manhood out, for all to see. He kept the knees loose, the feet flat to the deck.

Gia came to the end of her laps. She glanced up, watched his todger, as she put her hands to the edge, and lifted herself up. Harry took no measures to hide, simply kept watching as things began to slither and move; his stiff erection jutted outward before she finished putting her knees onto the deck. Unconcerned, he reached down, took her hand, and lifted Gia up. She appreciated that though Harry would show it, he never forced his erection onto her.

“Hi,” Harry said, as he pushed his lips onto her, kissed.

“Lousy day?” Gia asked.

“As we’d kinda suspect,” Harry said, “Makes you a good sight for sore eyes.”

“And we wait on that,” Gia said, understanding the strength of him showing his erection, she knew what he was interested in.

“Not going to bother with a room?” Tracey asked.

“They don’t need it,” Nate said.

“You just want to see them bang,” Tracey snapped.

“I would’ve considered dinner,” Gia said, “But I’ve got too much school work to stop.”

“We’ll walk with you,” Nate said.

Gia grabbed her bookbag.

“We need to change,” Tracey said.

“Nah,” Harry said, glancing at the two swimsuits, “Change when you get home.”

“Don’t wait up for me,” Tracey said.

“Half a minute,” Nate said.

Harry and Gia went to the entrance, bookbag over her shoulder, and waited the minute until Nate came out. Nate was still in his green with a yellow stripe swim trunks.

“Only drawback with me swimming starkers is that nobody else is,” Gia said.

“Oh, you _want_ to see your teammates naked?” Nate asked.

“Lets just say…it’d be appreciated,” Gia said.

“One person—coach lets it slide,” Nate said, “Entire team? No way.”

“I’m swimming better,” Gia said, “You ought to try it.”

“Can’t—more drag,” Nate said.

“As opposed to trunks slowing you down?” Harry said.

“Bye,” Nate said, “See ya tomorrow.”

“Later,” Gia said, waved.

Harry and Gia kept walking.

“Glad that still works,” Gia said, her eyes glanced at Harry’s hard cock.

“Of course it does,” Harry said.

“After last night—got a bit worried,” Gia said.

“While it’s nice to know that I do love him too,” Harry said, “You…you give me a stiffy and that’s good, because I love you. To love, and be loved, by my friends, by you, it’s important.”

They stopped at the playground. Harry sat on the railing to the merry go round, Gia stepped close to him. He grinned as she touched his hard cock.

This boy, sitting here, had definitely changed her, for the better. Despite the kids running around, she focused on him, no longer wanting to hide their affections.

“Eww,” came the grumblings from one boy.

“Gross.”

Gia, however, did stand between the radial railings herself, faced toward the center. Harry got onto his feet, pushed for the merry go round to spin. It kept spinning as she stood there. Harry came behind her, his hands reached around, massaged her breasts.

“Eww,” came more grumblings.

“Here?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Gia said, knowing that they both preferred it public, to have an audience was better than not.

Harry’s hands moved down, plied into her clitoris, her vulva, before his chest pushed behind her. She felt the hard erection between her legs, and she braced herself to squat slightly down and bend forward.

“Now,” Harry said.

She felt the tip push inward, the shaft push by, as her vaginal wall wrapped itself around him. His pubic hair touched the bottom of her fleshy buttocks, and he began to drill. She appreciated his efforts to spice up their sexual lives, by bringing in Ron and Hermione, simply because Harry had become predictable in his method, his technique. She felt Harry’s cock reaching for that spot, the one he had learned to reach for, as she began to bear down at the same time she felt the swell of warmth. He pulled out, like he typically did, stepped in front to show her the todger dribbling the last bit of his seed.

“We need something different tomorrow,” Gia said.

“Oh?” Harry asked, frowning.

They got off the merry go round, walked.

“It’s…” she struggled to put her thoughts into words, for the regularity was comforting in its own right. “Shake it up.”

“Could ask Ron—” Harry started.

“With you and me,” Gia said, “Variety is the spice of life.”

“Oh,” Harry said.

“Ask around,” Gia said.

They came to 26 Oak, entered. She recognized the brown hair boy, in a white undershirt and briefs, as he went up the stairs.

“That’s—?” Harry asked.

“Stephan,” Gia said.

“I know, but is Ant—?” Harry said, “I thought she would’ve learned.”

“Some girls like having multiple boyfriends,” Gia said, “You’ve encouraged me to do the same with Ron.”

“That’s different,” Harry said.

“Is it?” Gia asked.

She recognized Harry was being judgmental, while normally he wasn’t, on occasion, he had to be taught again.

* * *

Hermione was still mad, Madam Pomfrey had chased her out. Instead, she was beneath the covers on Ron’s four poster bed, alone after curfew, with the lights out. None of the other four beds were in use; Finnigan and Thomas had obviously found others, while she suspected Neville was on the sofa in the Common Room.

She recognized the soft feet on the steps as they came to the top and entered, headed straight over to her. A pull of the cover, she recognized the hands on her arms, the breath against her neck, the chest that pressed against her back, the soft todger and pubic hair that touched her buttocks.

“She released you,” Hermione said.

“Yeah,” Ron replied, “Good as new.”

Hermione’s hand pulled on his thigh, brought the leg over hers. She felt the erection form against her, move to rest between her legs.

“What did happen?” Hermione asked.

“Two Bludgers to the head,” Ron said, “I think it was Ginny who brought me in.”

“That’s what I heard,” Hermione said, “Who’s getting punished for it?”

“Nobody,” Ron said, “It was an accident.”

“Sounded deliberate from what I had heard,” Hermione said, “Oliver Wood wanted me to—”

“I know,” Ron said, “He’ll supervise the practices.”

“I don’t want to hear of another accident, one that you didn’t make it,” Hermione said.

“I’ve always come back,” Ron said.

“That’s the way it always is, until that one time it doesn’t happen,” Hermione said.

Ron’s left hand felt, the arm held across her left breast, the hand rested on her right. His lips kissed her on the neck. She lifted her head enough for Ron’s right hand to reach under it, and she rested her head back down, her right ear against his palm. Her right hand reached, felt his hard cock between her legs, pulled it toward her.

“Bit tired for that,” Ron said, “Besides, we’d have to move…don’t want to do that, too comfortable.”

Ron’s left hand, though, did move, worked down, began to massage her clitoris, around the vulva. She began to bear down, the orgasm started, when Ron went limp. She recognized the breath, the snore, as he had fallen to sleep.

Ron coughed, gagged, slurped, and stopped breathing. Hermione fell as the four poster vanished. Below, a large basin of a rippled blue surface caught them. Hermione held onto the edge, while Ron slipped beneath its surface, motionless.

“RON!” Hermione shouted.

Hermione woke back up, sweating. Breath of Ron, his snores, reassuring, snores that she had long since grown to appreciate. It took a bit, until she could fall back to sleep.


	36. Antlers

“It’ll nice going to class well fed,” Ron said, Wednesday morning, as he, Hermione, and Harry left Gryffindor Tower.

“So you really got sent to the Hospital Wing?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Ron said, “All better now.”

“I should’ve stayed,” Harry said.

“Don’t go blaming yourself,” Ron said, “Shit happens.”

“If I was there—” Harry started.

“Those Bludgers could’ve hit _you_ ,” Ron said, “Forget it.”

“He’s been like that,” Hermione said.

“Good thing Ginny brought you in when nobody else would,” Harry said.

They came down the steps, approached the greenhouse.

“Should go away soon,” Thomas said.

“Nice rack,” Malfoy said, “How many points?”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione saw it as they came to the door. On top of Thomas’ head was a nice set of big antlers.

“If that mudlover were around, they could’ve swallowed it instead of me,” Thomas said.

“You volunteered to try it,” Longbottom said.

“At least it wasn’t me,” Harry whispered.

“Heard he beats her up,” Macmillan said.

“Likely more comfortable than Longbottom sleeping in the common room,” Finnigan said, “I’ve fortunately got a different bed to sleep in.”

Harry sighed. However, antlers or even class weren’t what dominated his mind. Instead, it came up later when he was with in the Headmaster’s office. Professor Dumbledore was in an arm chair, across the tea table from Harry.

“Something bothering you Harry?” Professor Dumbledore said, “You do not seem to be concentrating on the issue of Mr. Riddle.”

Harry saw those blue twinkling eyes.

“Gia wants something different,” Harry said, “I’m running out of ideas.”

“Aw, relationship issues,” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “Sorry, we shouldn’t be talking about that.”

“I’m not the best for advice on relationships,” Professor Dumbledore said, “but, a little diversion is appreciated from time to time.”

Harry figured he was now committed to the topic.

“Food helped for a while,” Harry said, “It’s still enjoyable, but feels like a rut’s been forming. I want to shake it up.”

“I presume you’ve stuck to muggle means,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Not that I’m advising you use magic as you’d be doing it outside of school and underage, however, there are means. Did you see that lovely set of antlers that Dean Thomas had this morning?”

“Yes,” Harry said.

“A little imagination is all you need,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Take, for instance, Polyjuice Potion, imagine switching places?”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Harry said, “Though…that’s tough to brew.”

“There would be others,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Alas, I would do you a disservice if I were to tell you of every possibility.”

Harry laughed.

“Let us return to the topic of Mr. Riddle,” Professor Dumbledore said.

They continued, until lunch time. Harry left the office, went to the familiar office on the third floor, entered.

“Harry,” Professor Lupin said, in his office, “This was a splendid idea, to have lunch.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “Dumbledore suggested—”

“I will thank him later,” Professor Lupin said before he took a bite of a sandwich.

“I love her and she loves me, so that’s not in doubt,” Harry said, “However, it’s…I need something different…for bedtime.”

“Aw,” Professor Lupin said, “I think I’m not the best to ask as I’ve never…lets just say that I do not wish to condemn any other living soul with my condition, and leave it at that.”

Harry nibbled, despite not being too hungry, felt it’d be impolite not to.

“Sorry then,” Harry said.

“Lily did find a book in the library,” Professor Lupin said, “I’d be surprised if it weren’t in Mr. Filch’s office by now.”

“Where all good things go to disappear,” Harry said.

“As a teacher, I’m not permitted to endorse that statement,” Professor Lupin said, “Lily and James, they did experiment with several, they were never the same again.”

“What?” Harry asked.

“Lets just say that some of them, you will be totally known by your partner,” Professor Lupin said, “Crushes, feelings, urges, all shared, whether you want to or not. Though, I think what they used most was Transfiguration, for the actual acts.”

“What’s that shark head that Victor Krum used in the second task to the tournament?” Harry asked.

“Transfiguration,” Professor Lupin said, “Incomplete as I heard it described.”

“Gia likes to swim,” Harry said, “Though, I suppose Gilyweed could be used too.”

“Now you’re thinking,” Professor Lupin said.

“Take, for instance, the muggle sport of football,” Professor Lupin said, “It’s already a tough sport. What do wizards do? We add brooms, mix it with rugby and cricket, and we’ve got Quidditch. Think like that and you’ll come up with new ways.”

“Not sure if doing it while flying my Firebolt would be a great idea,” Harry said, “Cool though.”

“You do love her, though, right?” Professor Lupin asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “My Mom and Dad—?”

“One of the few hookups not involving a Love Potion,” Professor Lupin said, “I agree with you, it’s more authentic. Lily wasn’t one who needed it either. Her kindness, compassion, was easy to mistake for infatuation and romantic interest. She fooled a number of wizards, Severus included.”

“Wait?” Harry said, “Snape had the hots—?”

“Exactly which wizards she adored, she kept to herself, except for James,” Professor Lupin said, “Sirius nor myself couldn”t tell for certain it wasn’t us. However, once she and James started to date, we butted out and celebrated. Others have unfairly taken out their pains of rejection on her kid—you.”

“That’d explain him, alright,” Harry said, “Despises Gryffindors, but me, it’s special.”

“Whereas, Sirius, is overjoyed to see you falling for Gia,” Professor Lupin said, “That you’re sharing it — he’s been needing this for years.”

“I…” Harry hadn’t really thought it all the way through, more focused on protecting Gia.

“A word of warning,” Professor Lupin said, “Do not neglect your affairs here, as you might be tempted to do.”

“I’m trying,” Harry said, “Until we can catch those mother fuckers—I need proof to convince the others.”

“I’m worried too,” Professor Lupin said, “So far, they seem to only be leaving the evidence they want to be found, the things that implicate you. Everything else is being cleaned up.”

“Yeah, organized,” Harry said.

“Well, I need to get ready for the first years,” Professor Lupin said.

“Thank you for lunch,” Harry said.

A half eaten sandwich remained on the plate as Harry left the office.

“There you are Mr. Potter!”

Harry turned, watched as Madam Pomfrey approached. Harry had seen this before.

“What this time?” Harry snapped.

“I expect courtesy from you, five points from Gryffindor,” Madam Pomfrey said, “It has come to my attention that you are suffering from sexual dysfunction and—”

“My todger works fine,” Harry said.

“We urgently need to schedule—” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“We’ll do it right here,” Harry said, as he opened the fly to his trousers, pulled his dick out, “See it?”

“As the Healer at Hogwarts, I have a duty to—” Madam Pomfrey said as she glanced at Harry’s hand vigorously wanking.

“Unless it’s life threatening or contagious, trust me to come in,” Harry said, “If Gia thinks it needs to be checked—” Harry paused as he felt the tension pressure build, release, and his dick began to pump out the off–white liquid, falling into a series of small puddles on the floor. “See? It works.”

“You were reported to be having issues,” Madam Pomfrey said, “I had a duty.”

“Please trust me,” Harry said, “Otherwise, this just encourages the slander and gossip. And on this, Gia keeps a very close eye, so if she’s worried, rest assured, I come in. Also, do you happen to have a napkin?”

Madam Pomfrey looked him over, the sixteen year teenage boy standing there, with his freshly spent cock softening before her eyes, when she handed him a napkin. Harry took the napkin from her, cleaned his tip, and restored his fly.

“As you wish,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“And I remember her appointment for tomorrow,” Harry said.

“I’ll see you next then,” Madam Pomfrey said. She left.

“What ails you this time?” sneered Draco Malfoy as he came around a corner.

“At least I know my cock works, so bugger off!” Harry said, he drew his wand, aimed it.

“Threatening me?” Malfoy asked.

“A warning to _stay away_!” Harry snapped.

Harry took a few steps backward, went around a different corner. He turned, moved up the stairs. Harry was quite used to the other students backing away, gave him the wide berth, and liked the hidden perk of not being slowed down. He first made it fast to the owlery, wrote a quick note to an owl’s leg, before he went back down, and entered the library.

“What kept you Mate?” Ron asked.

“Spacious,” Harry said as he sat down at the table. No other students were on that side of the library.

“That’s what we get for pissing them off,” Ron said.

“You’re not taking this serious, are you?” Hermione asked.

“Of course we are,” Harry said, “Gotta look at the benefits too.”

Ron snorted.

“Not funny,” Hermione said.

“About as funny as the rumor about me having sexual _dysfunction_ ,” Harry said.

“Must’ve happened recently,” Ron said.

“It works!” Harry said, “Even wanked, think that satisfied Madam Pomfrey.

An owl dropped a red envelope in front of Harry.

“You and Madam Pomfrey?” Ron asked.

“Not like that you dolt!” Harry snapped.

Ron grinned.

“Shh!” Hermione snapped.

Harry, though, tugged at the strings.

DO NOT BEAT YOUR GIRLFRIENDS!

Madam Pince glared menacingly at them.

“But I’m not,” Harry protested.

“No, the suggestion is to beat off,” Ron said, “Means more sex.”

Harry grinned. Hermione shook her head. They kept studying until they heard the bell for the end of lessons.

“Best to get moving,” Hermione said, “Like, _NOW_!”

Harry and Ron rushed to gather their papers, and things, shoved them into their bookbags. They left the library.

“What’s the rush?” Harry asked.

“Overheard Parvati in the bathroom after lunch,” Hermione said, “They’re going to be changing our password, daily, and we’re not to be told.”

“That bites,” Ron said, “Wonder how they got the notion we’re raving murderous lunatics? Just bring Gia along and we’ll convince them you don’t beat her—”

Harry elbowed Ron.

“Lets not _encourage_ them!” Harry said.

They came to the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.

“Password?” the Fat Lady asked.

“Guilty,” Harry said.

The Fat Lady remained, frowned, as the portrait stayed still.

“I guess we wait,” Hermione said.

Harry leaned back against the nearby wall.

“I know they’re trying to make me feel the outsider,” Harry said, “And they’re succeeding.”

“I’m in this together,” Ron said.

“And me,” Hermione said.

“Wish you weren’t,” Harry said.

“You’re the better group to be with,” Ron said.

“Thanks for the effort,” Harry replied.

A couple of moments later, Ginny came along.

“Hi Ginny,” Ron said, “Do you have the password?”

“It’s been changed,” Harry said.

“I know,” Ginny said, with her flowing long red hair, “And I’m forbidden from telling you, or speaking it in your presence, you know, in case you eavesdrop.”

“I’m your brother,” Ron said.

“Don’t discourage me from helping,” Ginny replied.

Harry chuckled.

“Harry!” Ron snapped.

“Fortunately there’s nothing against writing it down,” Ginny said, she leaned in towards Harry, kissed him, “I must be extraordinarily clumsy today.”

Ginny _tripped_ and dropped a piece of parchment, which Ron picked up.

“I just came back from the Hospital Wing,” Ginny said, “Dean Thomas thought that Fred’s toffee was short lived — it was to keep him from jinxing things against you. He tried to jinx the dormitory door, the antlers returned, so he’s talking to Madam Pomfrey about getting them removed before bedtime.”

“Thank you,” Harry said.

“Thump, thump,” Ron said to the Fat Lady, and it moved.

Ginny entered first, paused at the footstep of the stairs to the girl’s dormitories.

“You know, I should just wait for you to come down to dinner,” Ginny said.

“Don’t bother,” Ron said as he stepped toward the boys’ stairs, “We’re not hungry.” Ron’s stomach growled.

“Charming,” Ginny said.

Ron, Hermione, and Harry went up the steps.

“Lemme guess…” Hermione said as they entered the sixth years’ dormitory.

Harry pulled his shirt off before he made it into the room. He stopped just inside, faced Hermione. She watched him pull his shoes off, his socks, before he undid his fly.

“A strip tease,” Ron said.

Harry stepped in front of Hermione; her fingers felt the bit of pubic hair, the top of the todger showing, before she spread the halves, and lowered his trousers. Harry stepped out.

“Might get a second shot today,” Harry said, “Madam Pomfrey had to check it out.”

“She’s the Healer at a _boarding_ school,” Hermione said, as she cradled his testicles, “School rules require her to perform an examination. These feel fine, by the way.”

“Good thing Hermione knows your bollocks,” Ron said.

Hermione’s fingers pushed inward and felt Harry’s testicles.

“Feels fine,” Hermione said.

“Thank you,” Harry said, “Gia’ll feel them shortly.”

“Good idea,” Ron said, “You know…double check.”

Hermione let go.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Harry said as he went over to his desk with his trousers in his hands. Harry removed his Portkey before he stuffed his dirty clothes into his bookbag. He activated the Portkey, vanished.

* * *

Gia put her hand into the water, stroke after stroke. She felt the urgency in her bladder, she ignored it, as she wanted to wait. She caught the glances of the others, she was starkers in the swimming pool; an incentive to keep her pubic well shaved.

“Here he comes,” Nate announced, standing from the end of the lane.

She stopped at the end of the lane, as Harry entered. He was starkers, as usual. Harry came over, knelt, offered his hand. Gia grabbed it, let him pull, help her out of the pool.

“They’re going to bang,” Tracey said.

“He’s not stiff,” Nate said.

However, the tall, balding man came over.

“Coach,” Gia said.

“I tried petition after petition,” Coach Hampton said, “League would not accept a late registration. I’m sorry, you’re not on the team after all.”

“What?” Gia asked.

“I tried using your father’s funeral as the reason, still no sympathy,” Coach Hampton said, “If I had thought about it, we might have been able to arrange something the first week of school, not nearly a month in.”

“Oh,” Gia said.

“Coach!” Nate exclaimed, still in the water.

“Look, you simply aren’t allowed to compete, so if you come to a meet, you’re a spectator,” Coach Hampton said, “I wish I could change that, maybe next year. However, you’re welcome to swim practice with us, keep your skills up.”

“Thank you for trying,” Gia said.

“I wish it turned out differently,” Coach Hampton said before he left.

“Come to tomorrow’s meet,” Nate said, “Distract the others.”

“Really?” Harry asked. Harry turned Gia to face Nate; he stood behind her.

“Don’t distract me,” Nate said, his eyes went to the vulva a foot above him, “Not too much.”

“Like this?” Harry asked, his arms around her, the fingers worked down to the lace to either side of the vagina.

“Harry…” Gia started.

Harry’s fingers gently massaged as they teased the two halves apart, fingers inward, while the thumbs teased her clitoris, when she felt him do as he’s done many times before.

“Harry—Nate!” Gia stammered.

Gia’s bladder quenched, and she began to pee, standing next to the pool, with Nate standing just below her. She watched his face, the bewilderment as her flat spray soaked him.

“About time for a golden shower,” Tracey remarked.

“Sorry,” Harry whispered to Gia, “Should’ve told me—”

“He likes it,” Tracey said.

Gia, though, didn’t feel the urge to hide, to stop, so she kept pissing, until she was empty.

“Sorry,” Gia said to Nate.

Nate, though, dropped, rinsed in the pool.

“You peed in the pool,” Nate said, “No denying it—”

“She just got kicked off—” Tracey started.

“Lets go,” Harry said to Gia.

They went over to her bookbag, Snuffles nearby.

“We’re going to take the long way back,” Harry said, “Mind carrying that ahead of us?”

Snuffles growled for a moment, before he grabbed the bookbag in his mouth, carried it out. Harry and Gia left.

“Harry,” Gia said, “You should’ve asked before you made me—”

Harry turned as they stopped.

“Sorry,” Harry said, “At least I’m guilty of this.” He lifted her breasts with each hand. “Sorry, I just needed—not as rough of a day, but still, they still hate me, and these…it’s nice coming home to them, and you.”

Harry stepped closer, let her breasts rest against his chest, while he held his soft dick out, touched her clitoris. He stepped back. She glanced, it seemed longer than it had just been.

“You don’t have to make a show of it,” Gia said.

“Come,” Harry said, “Lets go.”

They walked. She glanced again, his dick was hanging down to his knees.

“What’s going on?” Gia asked.

“Did you notice?” Harry asked, holding the longer, soft, penis in his hands.

“You took something,” Gia said.

“Yes,” Harry said, “Don’t worry, not permanent, at least it didn’t claim to be. No, just a suggestion I was given.”

“Oh,” Gia said, “Know what you’re doing?”

“Never, where’s the fun in that?” Harry asked, releasing. His soft todger now went halfway between his knees and his feet.

“My wallet’s with Snuffles,” Gia said, “You didn’t think that through, right?’

“Could try a pub,” Harry said.

“If you added an inch, or two, the muggles wouldn’t notice,” Gia said, “You’re practically tripping over it!”

“Oh,” Harry muttered, glanced down as his foreskin touched the pavement, “Come to think about it, I’m not certain how long this is going to get.”

Harry reached, lifted it as it grew, slung it over his shoulder.

“What’d you take?” Gia asked.

“The diagram only showed a couple of feet,” Harry said.

She glanced beneath the pubic hair, where his balls hung.

“Bollocks look fine,” Gia said, “No danger there.”

Gia grabbed his soft penis, held it like a snake, over five feet and it was still growing. She examined the foreskin, which seemed normal. Her lips gripped the foreskin, she pushed it back, to see the pink glans.

“You can blow yourself,” Gia said, moving his tip to his lips. His tongue licked the slit.

“No—no—stop!” Harry said.

Quickly, Harry brought her into the park, the playground.

“What’s—” Gia started, until she felt it in her hands, the long filament of his dick started to stiffen.

Harry stopped, Gia laid it out on the grass. His penis was over twelve feet, and now getting hard.

“On your back!” Gia snapped.

Harry fell back, landed on his back. Together, they watched his todger stiffen as it started to jut upward. It lifted higher and higher.

“I’m not putting that inside me,” Gia said, as she saw the tip rise above the nearby tree.

“I figured that,” Harry said, “I didn’t think.”

“Of course not,” Gia said, “It promised a bigger dick, and you now got a bigger dick.”

“It’s windy up there,” Harry said, “And it’s heavy.”

Gia studied it, the ridge of the urethrae ran up the stiff shaft. She took a few steps backward.

“I think you need a red flashing light,” Gia said, “You know, they put them on towers to warn planes—at least that’s what Richard said.”

“Well, play with it,” Harry said, “You said you wanted something different.”

“Oh,” Gia said, realizing what Harry was trying to do, even if it ended up like this, “You didn’t have to do this, I love you the way you are.”

“It’ll wear off,” Harry said, “But it’s staying hard.”

Gia came over, sat down cross–legged, his hard cock to her right, while she looked down at Harry’s face. She teased the base of the shaft, his loose balls.

“I can’t reach the top, so here’s what I want you to do,” Gia said, getting an idea, “Close your eyes.”

“I don’t see—” Harry started.

“Just close them,” Gia said.

Harry closed his eyes.

“You wanted it to be different, so enjoy it being different,” Gia said, “What’s it like up there?”

“Windy,” Harry said, “It’s not too bad halfway up, but at top, oh, I can really feel it go by. Obviously, not into the clouds.”

“Picture it as me,” Gia said, “Imagine it’s me blowing across up there.”

“It’s not,” Harry said.

“Just imagine it,” Gia said.

Gia shook the base of the cock, the swaying went up the shaft. She fondled his balls.

“You’re trying to…” Harry started.

“Keep focusing,” Gia said, can you feel this all the way up? She shook his cock.

“A bit,” Harry said.

“Keep trying, this will take a bit,” Gia said, as she started to stroke the base.

“Oh…oh,” Harry said, “Keep that up.”

“Identify this, in just a moment,” Gia said.

She moved, went onto her knees, straddling Harry’s chest, his arms beneath her thighs, her knees near his head, while she sat on his stomach. She felt the stiffness behind her. One hand massaged the shaft, while the other massaged his testicles.

“Your pussy,” Harry said, “Your vagina’s on my tummy.”

Harry curled his head up, his mouth came to it, and his tongue began to lick. He put his entire mouth over it, breathed in and out. His tongue went inward, his fingers felt her clitoris, while she kept working his very hard, his very long, cock, a cock that towered above them, high enough that a couple of birds circled it.

“I already pissed back at the pool,” Gia said.

“Damn, yeah, damn,” Harry said, his muffled voice came through her vagina.

Gia knew this had to work if they wanted to get home before bedtime. She worked as vigorously as she knew to do when he was normal, her only handicap was she couldn’t reach his tip.

“A bird…it’ll work,” Harry said.

Gia felt the ridge, felt his urethrae pump, sending things upstairs. A minute later, she felt the warm, sticky mess flowing down the shaft, his semen stuck to her back.

“Good,” Gia said, “I know how these things work.”

Gia stood up, worked herself free, and glanced upward. It was falling as it softened. She pushed, and it fell between his legs out onto the grass. Gia walked along, found the tip, grabbed it, and marched until it was straight. She put one foot after another, paced back.

“How much?” Harry said, “Curiosity.”

“About seventy,” Gia said.

“Guess that’s long,” Harry said, “We’re stuck—”

“No,” Gia said, “Stand up.”

Harry stood. She grabbed his soft cock, coiled it around the back of his neck, before draping it like a necklace, to go back. A few loops, before she brought it over to her neck. Her fingers grabbed his tip, restored his foreskin, though it was still oozing a bit of the sticky semen.

“Okay, a bit long,” Harry said.

They walked, left the park, and made their way back to 26 Oak St. They entered, went up the stairs, and entered the bedroom. Harry sat on the bed.

“Okay, this counts as a screw up,” Harry said.

“Where’s…” Gia found the wrapper to Curse of Woodside , read the directions, “You ate the whole thing?”

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“Supposed to nibble until you find the desired length!” Gia said.

“Oh,” Harry said.

“Fred and George sent this?” Gia asked.

“Who else?” Harry replied.

“Guess we’re studying in here tonight,” Gia said.

“Yep,” Harry said, pulling out a book.

Harry put the loops of his cock to the side, laid down on the bed. Gia grabbed the penis, ran it back and forth across the bed. She laid down on it.

“Oh,” Harry said.

Harry grabbed part of the snake, put it on her back, threaded the tip into her vulva. Gia propped her head, read. let his cock rest where it was. It actually started to feel good against her skin, Harry was around her, even the parts of his cock on her buttocks and between her tits.

“Do this again,” Gia said.

“Really?” Harry asked.

“Not as much, but yes,” Gia said.

“It does have one advantage,” Harry said.

“What?” Gia replied.

Harry grabbed the end of his dick, coiled it up, before tossing his tip out the open window. She heard the noise of him taking a piss outside.


	37. Out of Control

“I can’t help but notice that’s a bit…on the long side,” Richard said Thursday morning as him and Harry paused for a light on their morning run.

“It’s … shrinking,” Harry said, aware that his penis hung down to his knees, “I’ll talk with my … well, Gia’s already got an appointment.”

“You’re the only guy I know that’s glad that their todger’s shrinking,” Richard said, a grin on his face.

Cars stopped and the light changed into their favor; they ran.

“Gia measured it to around seventy feet—soft, not a stiffy,” Harry said, “Felt weird having her coil herself up in it—good, but weird.” His penis, still a foot long, swung with his gait, flopped around.

“Like a seventy foot todger isn’t weird,” Richard said, “Can you give me a bit of that…potion, right?”

“More like taffee,” Harry said, “I wasn’t supposed to eat it all, just nibble until I had the desired length.”

“And your stiffy—that explains the several strange sighting reports,” Richard said.

“That was me,” Harry said.

They kept running.

* * *

Hermione let the shower keep adding heat to her skin, even after Ron had stepped out. She was used to Harry getting into danger, this time, it was Ron two days earlier, and she still felt some apprehension about it.

“Food’s getting cold!” Ron announced.

She grabbed a towel, dried off, knowing it was less about the food, and more about seeing her. At least these two wanted her. She left the lavatory, came to the table, and sat. Another perk of this new eating arrangement, they could defer getting dressed to later, thus, Harry and Ron were also starkers. Harry was poking a pair of his trousers, on the table, with his wand.

“So does Harry’s todger seem alright?” Ron asked.

Hermione studied it, hung there.

“Fine,” Hermione said.

“Just recommend if you try the Curse of Woodside ,” Harry said to Ron, “Nibble at it, alright?”

“He claims that thing went to seventy feet last night!” Ron exclaimed.

“Funny,” Hermione said, now seeing that Harry’s dick did seem a bit longer, went closer to his knees.

“Gia—she came to like it,” Harry said.

“What are you doing Harry?” Hermione asked, her eyes focused on his lack of wand work.

“I’m trying to make its pocket larger,” Harry said, “Big enough to fit my broom, figured it was best to learn.”

“Another condom up the arse?” Ron asked.

“That requires dropping trousers,” Harry said, “Not always the best of ideas.”

“Aw,” Ron said.

“I recommend you doing yours,” Harry said, “Or, Hermione?”

“Alright,” Hermione said, standing, “I need my wand.” She moved to stand next to Harry, his todger stiffened.

Ron reached over into his trunk, pulled her wand out, and handed it over.

“Why this sudden urge to carry your broom?” Ron asked.

“I figured _carrying_ them would arouse too much suspicion,” Harry said, “They’re changing the password on us, to keep us out. If that happens, I want to be able to use the window.”

“Tell me you’re joking,” Hermione said.

“No,” Harry said as he shook his head, “We need to be able to do it—I’ve got a broom, and so does Ron. We’ll carry you, or you can get your own broom.”

“That’s not happening,” Ron said.

“There’s got to be another way,” Hermione said as she worked the pocket.

“Sure, borrow Harry’s cloak of Invisibility and loiter outside waiting for somebody to shout the password,” Ron said, “Besides, think of all those _steps_ we have to climb. It’d be nice to not have to.”

“So, you’re onboard with this idea?” Hermione asked.

“Yes,” Ron replied.

“Figures,” Hermione said, “Next.”

Harry grabbed the trousers, fitted and stepped into them. Ron put one of his pairs onto the table. Harry grabbed his Firebolt, pulled the pocket open, and the broom slid all the way in.

“So it works?” Ron asked.

“Yep,” Harry said as he put on his socks, his shoes.

“Of course it works,” Hermione said.

“Right,” Ron replied.

Harry put on his shirt, grabbed his bookbag. In a moment, he opened the window.

“See you in class,” Harry said.

Harry pulled out his Firebolt, mounted, and flew out.

“He just wanted to fly,” Hermione said.

“It _is_ faster,” Ron replied.

* * *

Gia entered the pool building that afternoon. She immediately stripped.

“Gia,” Nate said as he came. He was in speedos with a bulge of the stiffening tent pole beneath its black cloth with a red stripe. “You’re not in the meet.”

“I can still be a spectator, right?” Gia said, “Distract the competition.”

Nate smiled.

Gia walked over, sat on the benches. She really wanted to be in the water. Instead, she simply had to wait and watch. As the swimmers competed, she began to tease her clitoris, and Nate seized the opportunity in the one hundred freestyle to use that fraction of a second to get the best time. Harry entered, he was starkers as usual, sat next to her.

“It’s tough when you’re the outsider,” Harry said, “It’s better that they want you.”

“School still sucks?” Gia asked.

“Yep,” Harry said, “We’ve got that appointment.”

“Oh, shit!” Gia exclaimed.

“It means we get to run,” Harry said.

Gia got up, with Harry, and they quickly left the pool building. They ran, hearts pumping. Harry wasn’t breaking a sweat, she, though, felt the toll of every fast step. Pebble, broken glass, her toes felt it all, until they came to the dirt path. They ran, leading up the side of 26 Oak, when they cut across and entered through the back dining room. Past the table, a right, a left, a hard left to go up the stairs, into Gia’s bedroom. Harry grabbed his wand and Portkey.

“Do I need to dress?” Gia asked.

“Shouldn’t be necessary,” Harry said as he activated the Portkey.

Gia touched it, felt the jerk behind the naval, as they were pulled north, to land on the four poster bed.

“Then I need Ron’s—” Gia started.

“No,” Harry said as he grabbed his Firebolt, “Get on.”

Gia got on behind Harry. She put her arms around his bare torso, her fingers felt the pubic hair as he opened the window. She put her faith, her trust, into him as her feet helped as they moved out, together. For a moment, she fell above the stone tiles, before his abilities took command of the broom. They flew, down to the first floor, where he aimed for an open window, and threaded the needle to enter. It was the Hospital Wing.

“You won’t enjoy it,” Ron said, him and Hermione were starkers.

“Ron!” Hermione said.

“What? I don’t want to oversell it,” Ron said.

Ron grabbed his Firebolt, Hermione got on, while Gia and Harry entered the curtains.

“I will take your dress as enthusiasm,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Good, because it’ll take an extra hour, maybe two if you weren’t.”

Gia figured she was exaggerating, perhaps alluding to Harry’s typical aversion to examinations, however, this one was about her, not him.

“Any excuse,” Gia said as she sat on the bed, “I prefer his birthday suit.”

Gia’s eyes landed on Harry, no concern in his eyes, even as his todger started to stiffen.

“Keep that under control,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Think about—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry said, “It’ll…” His dick softened back down.

“Gia,” Madam Pomfrey asked as she felt beneath Gia’s jaw, “Any issues?”

Gia felt the fingers checking inward.

“No,” Gia said, “Nothing health wise, just the usual.”

“Good,” Madam Pomfrey said, as she took out her wand, ran it over her, “He’s been satisfying you?”

“Yes,” Gia said.

“Potter, step out,” Madam Pomfrey said, “It’ll be for just a moment.”

Harry, with his smooth buttocks, walked out.

“This may seem a bit invasive,” Madam Pomfrey said, grabbing a device with a long, clear tube, “I need your hormone profile if you’re to get a year supply of the protection potion, made into pills, of course.”

“Oh, I guess,” Gia said.

Madam Pomfrey worked Gia’s vulva, the tube moved in, and she felt a mild burning sensation around her cervix.

“Aw…ah!” Gia moaned.

“Sorry, but I really need it,” Madam Pomfrey said.

A bit more of a slide, before the pain dulled down. An orange light on the box flashed on the small box next to her.

“I now need to have you explore your carnal nature,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Potter, come back in.”

Harry returned.

“Thank you for volunteering,” Madam Pomfrey said to Harry, “Go slow so I can get a proper balance for her.”

Gia understood, even though she realized Harry didn’t.

“Do as we normally do,” Gia said to Harry, “Except show her, get a bigger audience.”

“No, no, I’ll do fine,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“I mean it,” Gia said, “Harry, do we need Ron and Hermione?”

“No,” Harry said.

“Who’s nearby?” Gia said, “That old team captain?”

“Oliver Wood?” Harry asked.

“I’ll get him,” Madam Pomfrey said as she left.

“She needs my hormone profile to make that potion,” Gia said, “It’s the strongest when we’ve got spectators, right?”

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“Madam Pomfrey, I insist I’m fine!” Oliver Wood grumbled, as he came in between the curtains, he shielded his eyes, “Potter!”

“Go ahead,” Gia said.

“You’re Potter’s girlfriend!” Oliver Wood said.

“Castle full of gentlemen,” Gia said, “We need witnesses.”

“It’s okay Wood,” Harry said to Oliver Wood, “Just watch us.”

“I…I’ll be quiet,” Oliver Wood said, moving his hand, “I shouldn’t—”

“Yes you should,” Gia said.

“Please, get busy,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Just start with checking Potter out.”

Gia surveyed Harry. His face, with its grin, that infectious grin keeping her spirits up, the grin that let her know this was acceptable to him. His bottle green gentle understanding eyes beneath his jet black hair. His flat stomach, and the todger hanging between his legs. She examined the soft penis, with the foreskin protection of his tip, it rested right above the loose balls behind it, those two round lumps that made his seed; a sight that let her know that it had all returned to normal after Harry tried to do something different, and she appreciated this young man for it.

“Don’t worry Wood,” Harry said, “We just need to bang.”

“Okay,” Oliver Wood said, reluctant.

“More accurate to say that I need to tune the potion to her,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Simply needs to be strong, but typical.”

“Quidditch League’s physical is easier,” Oliver Wood said.

Harry stepped closer, put his knees around hers. In front of her, the thick pubic hair, the todger dominated her vision, hanging out from the hair, eclipsing most of his testicles.

“This’ll get messy,” Harry said.

Gia, though, wrapped her hand around those testicles, brough him closer, sniffed around his balls, while the todger pressed against her cheek. Musky, smooth, and soothing, her nostrils took in the scent of Harry. A bit stiffer, she felt the cock against her lips, and she wrapped her lips around her teeth and began to lightly, playfully, nibble.

Harry gave a slight chuckle, a sigh, as close to purring as he could manage. Gia worked her hands upward, felt the pubic hair, up his sides. She started to lay back, Harry matched, until she was on her back. He straddled her, as he went to his hands, lowered himself down.

“Surely we don’t have to do it this way,” Oliver Wood said to Madam Pomfrey.

Gia, though, moved her hand, reached, held Harry’s nearly soft todger, felt it stiffen as he kissed her. His tongue entered her mouth as his erection came to full stiffness. She rotated her hips, arching her torso just a bit. She felt his foreskin retract, the sensitive glans exposed, which she teased. Harry, though, moved his hips enough, his cock slipped out, the tip touched her clitoris before he moved it down. Harry kept kissing, the tongue exploring as he plunged his shaft into her. She felt a bit of a line, the measurement tube next to the hardness within her. Harry seemed not to notice as he began the alternating push and pull; she heard the suction of his glans within her, felt it make its wave, while his hands held her breasts.

“There is a charm,” Madam Pomfrey said to Oliver, “They prefer doing it the muggle way—with Mr. Potter and his girlfriend, whatever works, I’ll take.”

Gia appreciated the chit–chat, it reminded her that they were watching, as Harry’s cock explored within her, his tongue, that his love ran deep enough to let the spectators in. His balls were resting on her left thigh, while her right leg was up, and he kept thrusting, as slowly as he could but remain aroused. Harry had clearly learned it wasn’t a speed contest, that holding out longer was definitely better, waiting until he could sense what she was about to do.

“Definitely the muggle way,” Oliver Wood said, “Though she could fake it—”

“No,” Gia said.

She had learned, in their months together, that faking it would be a disservice to Harry. Harry wanted to know if he succeeded, and he desserved to know. If she faked it, she’d ultimately be doing herself a disservice. Harry simply wanted to know her better. Her breasts against his chest, he kept his slow thrusts, and she began to feel the sensation, of her bearing down. Harry sped up with her orgasms, before he paused, held his cock still within her, and she felt the surge. A grin on his face, and she knew he was sharing in the orgasm. He pulled out, stood up, with dew clinging to his dick.

“Feeling better?” Harry asked Gia.

“Yes,” Gia said.

“Got what you needed Madam Pomfrey?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Madam Pomfrey said, removing the tube from Gia, “It’ll take a couple of hours.”

“Good,” Harry said, “And, as you can tell, my dick works.”

“Come back at seven,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“Thank you,” Harry said.

“If you’re done—” Oliver Wood said to Harry.

“Couple of hours of flying, or what’s up?” Harry said to Oliver Wood.

“I’ve got essays to grade,” Oliver Wood said, “If you don’t mind the distraction.”

Harry grabbed his Firebolt with his right hand, while the left held Gia’s. They followed Oliver Wood down to his ground floor office, entered. Oliver Wood adjusted his jumper before he sat at his desk, grabbed the next sheet of parchment.

“You definitely love her,” Oliver Wood said, “I’ll give you that, Potter. That you wanted me to watch—”

“Maybe I take it more seriously,” Harry said as he studied the framed pictures of prior year’s teams, “Maybe it feels more naughty, I don’t know. I do know it’s more intense, and we enjoy it more when it’s shared with friends.”

“A fetish?” Oliver Wood asked.

“Maybe,” Harry said, “I just know I love her, and I’m not afraid to show it.”

“That part was very clear,” Oliver Wood said, “You do this a lot, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “Part of the routine.”

“It’ll cause trouble,” Oliver Wood said, “I’m amazed you talked Madam Pomfrey into sanctioning that _and_ you’ve not been cited.”

“Know the _Somebody Else’s Problem_ spell?” Harry asked.

“What’s that got to do with this?” Oliver Wood asked.

Oliver took a quill, dipped in red ink, and wrote on the essay. He put the sheet down, went to the next one.

“I used it the first time,” Harry said, “And a few times after that. I think my subconcious picked it up, does it all the time without me thinking about it. We’ve done it in places where we should’ve been arrested, instead, people watch, move on.”

“You think you’re doing that?” Oliver Wood asked.

“Is it plausible?” Harry asked.

“Nothing against it,” Oliver Wood said.

“It is nice,” Gia said, “Not having to worry, let those around us just see it. However, us _muggles_ do realize something’s amiss.”

“It’s my best explanation,” Harry said, “I just know, I ain’t stopping it.”

Oliver Wood chuckled.

“You’d make for a good Quidditch player if you _like_ an audience,” Oliver Wood said, “Imagine, a whole stadium watching you fly naked, as your hard stiffy decides to be a stiff mess about it.”

“You have sex on a broom?” Harry asked.

“That’ll be next,” Gia said.

“It’s not _deliberate_ in the match,” Oliver Wood said, “We’re not allowed to deliberately hex, but we are witches and wizards, robes do vanish, and so you’ve got a choice. Do something about your dress, or, keep playing. We keep playing.”

“He’d love for there to be more _accidents_ ,” Gia said.

“We practice starkers quite a bit just so it’s not the first time in the match,” Oliver Wood said, “But it’s still distracting—I did lose a goal, let them score, the first time it happened to me.”

“It sounds dirty,” Gia said.

“It is,” Oliver Wood said, “But it’s professional, so you use what you have to break your opponent’s concentration. I’ve shaken my bare arse before, distracted a Chaser enough that I was able to block her from scoring.”

“So you’re starkers a lot during the matches?” Gia asked.

“I may be overstating it,” Oliver Wood said, “But it does happen. As you two insisted I watch, you won’t have any issues on the Pitch.”

“Thank you for watching,” Harry said, “Maybe it’s just the hormones, but yeah, it’s more stimulating.”

“I’d love to keep chatting, but I’ve got essays to get finished,” Oliver Wood said.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “Thanks.”

Harry led Gia out of Wood’s office, brought her to the trophy room, Firebolt in hand. Gia held him tight around the stomach, from his backside. She glanced at the pictures, of the house Quidditch teams, going back decades, of them flying around on their brooms. Gia saw the three of them that had both Harry and Oliver Wood in them; ones with their Quidditch cup in victory.

“You came in here deliberately, just to brag,” Gia said.

“No,” Harry said.

Her hands reached down, his cock between them as she held his testicles; his erection returned.

“It’s nice to know I’ve got something special,” Gia said.

Gia read some of the earlier trophies, noted that before Harry, the house of Slytherin dominated the results.

“Guess we do,” Harry said.

“Guess?” Gia asked.

“We do,” Harry said.

“Go back, see if it’s ready,” Gia said.

“Alright,” Harry said.

Gia’s fingers moved, held the erection as Harry put in the effort. They moved back out, up the stairs.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Ron said as his eyes had spotted Harry.

Ron and Hermione were headed for Hospital Wing, both dressed, while neither Harry nor Gia were. Ron and Hermione stopped, waited, until Harry and Gia joined up. All four went into the Hospital Wing together.

“Harry just didn’t want to get dressed, did he?” Hermione said, “But he didn’t need to—”

“Likely showed up that way,” Ron said.

“You got it,” Harry said.

They came into Madam Pomfrey’s office. She was busy at the cauldron.

“Not quite ready then,” Gia said.

“You seem eager,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“Somebody’s really interested in using it,” Ron said as his eyes moved onto Harry and Gia.

“Please wait,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“Yeah, we’ll be right outside,” Harry said.

They went out into the ward, sat on a pair of beds, facing each other.

“She needed your hormone makeup too?” Hermione asked Gia.

“Lemme guess how,” Ron said.

Harry smiled.

“Charm takes seconds,” Hermione said.

“That’s less fun,” Ron said, “I’m guessing he banged her.”

“Yep,” Harry said.

“You didn’t have to,” Hermione said to Harry.

“Of course he _had_ to,” Ron said, “Quite noble mate, to make that sacrifice…”

All four of them broke out in fits of laughter. Madam Pomfrey came out a few moments later, two brown paper bags. She handed one to Hermione, the other to Gia.

“Please be responsible,” Madam Pomfrey said, “If you have any issues, let me know immediately. Otherwise, plan to see me in a year, should you desire to continue.”

Madam Pomfrey returned to her office. Harry mounted his Firebolt.

“I’ve got a better way,” Ron said, “It didn’t seem wise to leave them exposed.”

Ron pulled out Harry’s wand, Portkey.

“You did!” Hermione snapped at Ron.

Ron adjusted the screens around them, tightly.

“There’s only one reason he’d do it,” Ron said, “Besides, it’s a bit breezy outside to go starkers.”

Harry tapped his Portkey, Gia held on, and they quickly returned to her bedroom, in Noigate. Harry leaned his Firebolt against the wall.

“That was an examination we can do over and over,” Gia siad.

Harry grinned.

* * *

Ash tried to sleep a bit longer Friday morning, beneath the covers on his bed, except he was being rocked.

“Ash!” came the soft voice, “Wake up!”

Ash pulled the covers, his blue eyes saw the blond hair of Buck above him.

“Breakfast!” Buck said.

“I want to sleep,” Ash said, softly.

“Fine, if you want to be late,” Buck said.

“I’ll be in class,” Ash promised.

Buck left the room. Ash tried to sleep, but he was already awake. Ash rolled out of bed, stood naked as he sorted through his trunk, found a wrinkled change of clothes. He carried them under his arm, with his shoes, lifted up his bookbag, and left his dormitory. Ash climbed the steps, to the top, entered the sixth years’ boys’ dormitory.

“Ash?” Ron asked.

Ron and Hermione were sitting at the table, also starkers.

“I was wondering if Harry showed up yet,” Ash said as he crossed over.

Ash set his things on Harry’s trunk, sat on the table, food by his butt. In front of him, Ron with the slightly muscular chest. Hermione, with her small breasts. Both of them were looking at Ash.

“People have been talking,” Ash said, “Talking about you and Harry.”

Whump!

Harry, starkers, crawled out of his four poster bed.

“What have they been talking about me?” Harry asked.

“You may as well read,” Hermione said.

Hermione handed over the front page article of The Daily Prophet . Ash read it, aloud.

Friday, 11 October, 1996 

The Daily Prophet

Potter is Out of Control

by Rita Skeeter

It has come to your truly’s attention that the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter, is very much out of anyone’s control. Potter seems to have discovered sex and now has his rampaging hormones to deal with. Draco Malfoy, a sixth year Hogwarts student said, “Last year Potter was rumored to be fucking every girl in school. This year, Potter is rumored to have every sexually transmitted disease possible. Now, Potter is rumored to be screwing his best friends and beating them in to compliance.” This outlandish behavior is not confined to just his immature sex drive, other behaviors demonstrate this.

Last month, a dozen people were murdered in Hogsmeade seemingly at the hands of Potter. Every so often, the older Hogwarts students including Potter are allowed to visit the neighboring village of Hogsmeade. Ernie Macmillan, also a sixth year student at Hogwarts, said, “It was horrible. We arrived to see Potter and Weasley soaking in the blood and it was very obvious who the culprits were.” Minister Fallerschain conducted an exhaustive investigation but was pressured to drop the charges by none other, Albus Dumbledore.

This Monday, Potter is purported to have poisoned the lunch at Hogwarts. Vincent Crabbe, also a sixth year student at Hogwarts, said, “We ate lunch and started doubling over, sick. While I was in line for the Hospital Wing, in come Potter, Weasley, and Granger, the only three students not ill.” Immediately a search was conducted of Hogwarts that turned up suspicious paraphernalia in the possession of Potter, Weasley, and Granger that corroborated the assertion that they introduced the poison. Albus Dumbledore however, refuses to accept the facts and lets the delinquent Potter escape all punishment.

Many petty incidents have also occurred at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry . A number of Potter’s schoolmates have complained of beatings and even the Cruciatus Curse being used against them. Last month, Potter played with the school armor, let it get out of control, and then complained of an attack. Numerous students have complained to yours truly about many incidents including this one; Greggory Goyle, another Hogwarts student, recalled, “You must remember, this was before most of these incidents so most were more gullible to believe his fictional story of an attack. Potter always gets away with everything, he must have been playing with the armor with magic and it got out of control. That is the only explanation.”

Repeatedly, Potter has demonstrated that he is completely out of control. All students at Hogwarts are well advised to steer clear of Potter and his friends, lest they become victims. Albus Dumbledore is clearly shielding Potter from all responsibility and is therefore encouraging further recklessness on Potter’s behalf. Minister Fallerschain should seriously consider further investigation of Potter for Potter’s own good. Potter is well advised to look into the latest fashion for Azkaban prison garb.

“Bollocks!” Harry exclaimed.

“I concur,” Hermione said, “Bollocks.”

“You can play with mine,” Ron said.

Ash grabbed a sausage, ate, while Hermione teased Ron’s bollocks. Ron’s todger stiffened. Ron and Hermione quickly got up, went for the shower.

“So you came up here?” Harry asked.

“Why not?” Ash said as he stared at Harry’s todger hanging right there.

Ash didn’t believe the article in full either. Ash hoped to never meet this Rita Skeeter, as she obviously didn’t know Harry enough to be writing about him, and Ash didn’t want an article about himself in The Daily Prophet either.

“It’s alright,” Harry said.

Ash reached out, touched Harry’s todger, watched the bottle green eyes with the smile.

“It’s alright,” Ash replied.

“I already said this,” Harry said, “You don’t have to.”

Ash remembered the conversation.

“Trust yourself,” Ash said, “I do.”

Harry stood there as Ash teased the foreskin, stiffened Harry’s cock up. Ash found it more funny than anything, to tease Harry like this; Ash rubbed the cock, teased it, watched it, until the pumping beneath occured. Ash saw the off–white shoot out at the angle away from himself.

“You didn’t have to,” Harry said.

“Yes I did,” Ash said. Ash knew he just lied, but still, to see Harry enjoy a moment after that article, Ash knew that Harry needed it. Ash touched, felt the pubic hair several times, until Harry calmed down.

“May as well have breakfast,” Harry said.

“I need a shower,” Ash said as he hopped off the table.

“Ron and Hermione are taking theirs,” Harry said.

“They’re having sex,” Ash said, before he entered the bathroom. Ash saw Ron’s hard cock buried inside Hermione.

“Ash!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Like I don’t know what that is,” Ash said as he stepped into the shower, “Don’t mind me.”

Ash soaped himself up, scrubbed, with Ron and Hermione practically on top, while Ron held himself in.

“Did Harry ever explain the need for privacy to you?” Ron asked.

“Why?” Ash said, “We’re one big happy house, a family, right?”

“Ash,” Harry said, as he entered the bathroom, “Will you stop harrassing them?”

“They wanted to have sex,” Ash said, before his head turned to face Ron and Hermione, “Congratulations on a job well done!”

Harry smiled as he stepped in front of the toilet, took aim, and peed.

“He’s annoying,” Ron said.

“I know,” Harry said, not hiding, not shielding as he pissed out a yellow stream, “He’ll feed us the password.”

“Sorry,” Ash said, “Not allowed, it’s cursed—anything but that. Not like you need it.”

“We fly,” Ron said.

“Weird, I thought you would’ve used your Portkey,” Ash said as he rinsed right next to Hermione lathering up.

“Keep quiet about that,” Harry said.

“Aw, you _prefer_ flying,” Ash said, “Understood.”

“Wasn’t there a time he wouldn’t talk?” Ron said, “Now he won’t shut up.”

Ash stepped out, grabbed a towel, and dried off. Ash walked back out, sat at the table, grabbed a stack of pancakes and drizzled the maple syrup over them.

“Andy…” Ash started. He remembered her, a certain longing that he knew wouldn’t happen. “Got weekend plans?”

Harry came back over, knelt on the edge of the table as he faced Ash. Ash glanced at the soft penis.

“We discussed this, remember?” Harry said.

“I want to see her, one last time,” Ash said.

“No,” Harry said, “You know I can’t, not any longer. You need to spend the weekend with your friends in the first year.”

“Not really my friends, not like you,” Ash said.

“ _Make_ them your friends,” Harry said, “I’m sixth year, I’m gone after next year, so you need friends in your year. See how well Ron and Hermione are, with me? You’ve got some friends already, make them into what you see Ron and Hermione are to me, understood?”

“I guess so,” Ash said.

“Besides, there’s a lot of shit going around,” Harry said as he picked up The Daily Prophet , “Don’t get yourself mixed into my affairs, you don’t want them, or should we write the article on _you_ for Rita? Ashland Hurley, a first year, hangs out with Harry Potter, just as out of control and to be avoided at all costs.”

“I get it,” Ash said.

“Voldemort is after me,” Harry said, “He won’t spare my friends—Ron and Hermione are skilled enough to stand a chance of not being murdered. You—you’re dead if you misstep, and I don’t want that, alright?”

“Yeah,” Ash said.

“Good,” Harry said, “I like seeing you, but you do need to consider your own life. Think on it, you’ll have the whole weekend, and I do _not_ want to see you sneaking in on my Portkey, understood?”

Ash nodded.

“Get dressed and get to class,” Harry said. Harry went over to the trunk, tossed Ash’s clothes at the table before he opened it, got his own clothes out.

* * *

Hermione walked along the titles on the shelf in the library that afternoon.

“Hermione, we want to get a push on for the weekend,” Harry said.

“Go ahead,” Hermione said, “I’ll catch up.”

“We know exactly how this’ll work,” Ron said, “Give you five minutes, right Harry?”

“Sure,” Harry said.

Hermione went by the titles, Prat’s Guide to Muggle Architecture , 50 Shortcomings to Muggle Architecture , Build Your Own Castle in Thirty Days or Less .

“What’s this for?” Ron asked.

“Do you have planning permission?” Harry asked.

Her fingers landed on a thick book, Fleckney’s Top 1000 Stone Archways , and she pulled it out. She thumbed through it, looked at the pictures, until she reached the end, a crude drawing of a stone arch, no walls, merely supporting itself with a single curtain in between.

Referenced in passing by Claxby in executions, further details unavailable.

Hermione wondered why it was coming to her dreams.

“Hermione!” Ron said, “Check it out.”

“Not necessary,” Hermione said as she put the book back.

“Or not,” Harry said.

They left the library.


	38. Cars

“Come on Harry,” Ginny said, naked as she was in the hot bath water in the metal tub in the kitchen of the Burrow.

Ginny scrubbed the long and hard todger in the warm water, the one connected to Ron beneath the red pubic hair, Ron sitting on the edge of the tub, his bollocks resting on the surface of the water.

“Ginny!” Ron snapped.

“Ronald,” Mrs. Weasley said, “You know she needs to practice!”

“It’s my stiffy!” Ron complained.

“We need everything to be perfect if Ginny’s to get him,” Mrs. Weasley said.

Mrs. Weasley turned around to pay attention to the cauldron on the stove.

“It’s a nice one,” Ginny said, her hand petted Ron’s stiff erection.

Ginny poured on a bit more liquid soap onto the shaft, lathered it up in the water.

“Just one more eye of newt,” Mrs. Weasley said as she dropped it in.

Poof!

Flame enveloped Mrs. Weasley, she screamed.

“Mum!” Ron shouted, “Mum!”

“Ron! Ron!” came Harry’s shouts that woke Ron that Saturday morning.

“Huh?” Ron asked.

“Everything alright?” Harry got out of Gia’s queen sized bed as he asked.

“Yeah,” Ron said, also on that bed.

Ron quickly realized where the dream had come from, Hermione was on him, her breasts against his ribs, while her mouth was over his hard cock, sucking like a baby to a pacifier, though her breaths, her rate, her eyes hinted at her still asleep.

“I wasn’t going to stop that,” Harry said.

Ron glanced at Harry, with the flat chest, and pubic hair.

“Of course not,” Ron said, “Your morning run? How long?”

“About a half hour or so,” Harry replied.

Ron glanced at the flexing buttocks as Harry left the bedroom to join up with Richard before going down the stairs. Ron laid there, he wasn’t going to stop Hermione. Her tongue explored, worked around her, that moist muscle pushed, felt, stimulated. She coughed for a moment, but kept it up, kept his glans immersed in her, though his bollocks stayed untouched. Ron’s right fingers reached, teased the stub in the carpeted forest, rubbed her clitoris. She doubled down on her stimulation of him.

“Hermione,” Ron said as he felt the pressure start to surge, “Hermione.” He began to release.

“Gah!” Hermione exclaimed as she woke fast, pulled back.

Ron’s shaft pushed out the surge, his off–white sticky fluid poured out.

“You didn’t—?” Hermione started.

“I woke to you…erm…” Ron said, feeling the spasms that pumped it out, “Not complaining.”

“Of course not,” Hermione said, her eyes on his cock coating itself with his semen, “You should’ve—”.

“I can’t read your mind,” Ron said.

“You should’ve noticed me sleep–blowing you!” Hermione said as she got off the bed.

“Like Gia playing with Harry’s as he sleeps,” Ron said, “I figured it was something you _wanted_ to do. Harry didn’t see a problem, so we didn’t stop you.”

“I should be _awake_ ,” Hermione said.

“Sorry,” Ron said, “You know me.”

“I do,” Hermione said as she left the bedroom.

Ron got up, followed.

“Hermione!” Ron protested.

Hermione, though, went into the bathroom, closed and locked the door. Ron sighed, went down the steps. He entered the dining room, Gia was sitting there, with Jen, both starkers. Hermione came in a moment later.

“Hi,” Gia said, her eyes glanced at the white strand dangling from his foreskin.

Harry came into the dining room, his black pubic hair and balls just above the table line.

“Didn’t you just leave for your run?” Ron asked.

“We got a better offer,” Richard said as he, with the light brown hair, came in.

Ron glanced at Richard’s circumcised penis hanging out from the brown pubic hair, when Nate walked in, wearing green shorts and a white T–shirt, his short blond hair roughed up.

“Oh, a nudist colony?” Nate said, “Mum wanted me to wear trousers.”

“They run naked,” Gia said, “And we sleep naked, makes the morning easier to not worry.”

“I got some coupons,” Nate said, “Discount admission, I didn’t know what to make of them, until Richard and Harry came running past.”

“You’d like it Ron,” Harry said.

“What about—?” Ron asked, pointed at Hermione.

“I can manage,” Hermione said, dryly, her eyes glared at Ron.

“What’d ya say?” Richard asked Ron.

“We’re about to have a girls day,” Gia said.

Ron caught Hermione’s glare at Gia.

“Yes we are,” Gia replied to her glare.

“Yes,” Ron said. “I need to get dressed.”

“You’d just go starkers,” Hermione snapped.

“Actually…” Harry said, “Thanks for the idea.”

Hermione groaned.

“You know the last time—” Gia started.

Ron left the dining room, 

“Are you suggesting I do this too?” Nate asked.

“If you want to,” Harry said, “I’m going starkers.”

“Where’d you put your wallet?” Nate said, “I’m not paying for four.”

“I’ve got you covered,” Richard said, “Follow.”

Richard led the way up the stairs, he turned left into his bedroom. Richard went to a drawer, pulled out small wallets attached to bands. Ron grabbed one, went into Gia’s bedroom, he examined it.

“You just do this,” Harry said, lifting his foot up to the bed, showed the attachment of it, before he put in his banknotes, ID, fake ID, and debit card from his regular wallet.

“And wand?” Ron asked.

“Don’t need it,” Harry said, “If you want to shove it up your arse, go ahead, I’m not touching it.”

Ron decided that blending in was more important, attached his wallet to his ankle. He turned around, saw the blond haired boy with shorts on the floor. Nate’s circumcised penis hung there as he pulled the shirt off on the landing.

“You’ve got quite a few of these,” Nate said.

“Mum’s a cop,” Richard said as he came back to the landing, “Can’t go to a convention without picking up one or two.”

They went down the stairs, and out the front door; clouds thickening above, blotting out the blue.

“So you were—?” Nate started to ask, his eyes on Ron, while also blushing.

“Ron Weasley,” Ron said.

“He’s in my school,” Harry said.

“Just relax,” Richard said to Nate.

“I’m not used to—” Nate started.

“Chicken,” Harry said.

“Harry, you’re better than that,” Ron said.

“Just a nudge,” Harry said.

“I’ll need it,” Nate said, “I know Harry well enough that I trust him here.”

“I’ll give you that,” Ron said, “He’s the trustworthy type.”

“Nate’s on the swim team that Gia tried to become a member of,” Harry said.

“If she had tried out in August, it wouldn’t have been an issue,” Nate said.

“Her father’s funeral was the same day,” Harry said, “Rotten timing after that too.”

“So, Harry got you on board with going starkers?” Nate asked.

“Lemme put it this way,” Ron said, “Never trust your girlfriend if she insists you’ll miss the train if you don’t.”

“It became habit forming,” Harry said.

Nate laughed. Together, the four of them walked, with four different shades to their hair; blond, light brown, black, and red, in single profile as they went onto the station platform. One by one, they bought their tickets.

“I admit I didn’t think about red heads having it red down there,” Nate said.

Ron felt his bollocks, tightening a bit.

“Should stay in the upper teens1 all day,” Richard said, “Alright weather for walking around.”

Harry gripped his penis, peed as he walked. 

“So, which school you go to?” Nate asked.

“St. Mary’s,” Harry said, “Good spot, north of here.”

“And you travel every day?” Nate asked.

“Yep,” Harry said.

“So, when did you lose your virginity?” Nate asked.

“This summer,” Ron said, “And him.”

“Cool,” Nate said, “Wish I wasn’t circumcised.”

Nate blushed as the train started to slow down, his cut penis stiffened beneath the blond pubic hair.

“It looks fine,” Harry said.

“Gia enjoys playing with your foreskin,” Nate said, “You bone her quickly.”

They boarded the train.

“I’m not having mine cut to find out,” Harry said.

“They still work,” Richard said, “But yeah, you can definitely bang Gia faster than I can do Jen.”

“So that was Hermione Granger?” Nate asked as he sat on a seat in a two facing two arrangement.

Harry and Ron sat on the other bench, facing Richard and Nate.

“Stretch a bit,” Harry said, “Don’t hide your dick.”

“Like this?” Nate said as he leaned back, slid until his hard cock jutted upward, “Bit—obvious?”

“First rule, keep it visible at all times,” Richard said, sitting next to Nate.

“Helps you get used to it showing, being seen,” Harry said, “But yeah, that was Hermione back at the house.”

“We went to primary together,” Nate said, “I hadn’t really seen her since then, she’s gotten her tits.”

“She’s also _our_ friend,” Ron said.

“He’s dating her,” Harry said, “He lost his virginity to her, like I lost mine to Gia.”

“Just between the tits, Gia’s—” Nate started.

“Plumper? Fuller?” Harry said, “And they are _mine_!”

“You’re bragging,” Richard said.

“I’ve played with them both,” Ron said, “Gia’s, I admit, I’d rather be playing with Gia’s tits than Hermione’s.”

“You’re jealous,” Harry said.

“You insisted,” Ron said, “I wasn’t going to decline the offer.”

“Banging your friend’s girlfriend ain’t a good idea,” Nate said.

“We had a sort of problem with Hermione,” Harry said, “Ron and me, see, we met her on our way to our school, that very first day. While it was rough, we became fast friends, enough that we’ll risk our lives to help each other, that tight, and we’ve grown up. She was torn, loved both of us. When I saw Gia’s boobs though, when we played, I was hooked.”

“So, Ron and Hermione, I presume,” Nate said.

“Tickets!” came the call from the ticket inspector, “I need to see your tickets.”

The lady came through, glanced at Nate’S hard erection as she punched their tickets. She moved on.

“I’ve got wood!” Nate exclaimed, pointed at the exposed glans that could never be covered.

“You get away with it because I want to get away with it,” Harry said.

“Wishful thinking,” Nate said.

“It’s worked so far,” Harry replied.

“Just like you banging Hermione and so you let Ron bang Gia?” Nate asked.

“Cut the jealousy man,” Harry said as he adjusted his ball sack, “Feelings are between Ron and Gia, just like there are ones between myself and Hermione. So, we embrace them on top of the normal ones, it’s become a four–way relationship. It’s not like we’re straying all the time, just from time to time, letting the love between us, express itself.”

Harry reached over, teased Ron’s foreskin. Ron felt it stiffen as Harry’s fingers did this.

“They’re simply open in their relationship,” Richard said, “And their dicks are active because of it.”

“Also makes the relationship better,” Harry said, “I mean, cute, right?” He retracted Ron’s foreskin, teased the slit. “It fits Gia differently than mine, and the girls, they want us to shake it up. Just look, and while you’ll see Ron’s to be a tad shorter than mine, it’s thicker, so it fits their pussies different than mine—different stimulation and the girls are happier.”

“I’m jealous,” Nate said.

“Now calling at…”

“That’s us,” Richard said.

They got up, and left the train. After following the signs, they came to Motorsport Boys Raceway . Nate handed the coupon over to the lady behind the counter.

“We’re all sixteen,” Nate said to the lady.

A quick exchange of cash, and they went in. A few glances went their way, at the naked boys climbing the steps into the stands.

Vroom! Vroom!

Ron watched, the metal contraptions, more sleek than the Ford Anglia residing in the Forbidden Forest back at Hogwarts, move rapidly down the asphalt track.

“We need to find seats,” Harry said.

Ron caught the glances from other teenage girls at them as they went down the stairs, to come to the front row of seats.

“Richard!” came the exclaim.

Ron didn’t recognize, but Harry did recognize the boy.

“Hi Stephen,” Harry said, sitting next to the boy, “Where’s Ant?”

“You mean Andy?” Stephen said, as he stripped, “Shopping.”

Ron sat next to Nate, put his feet up on the railing in front of them, leaned back. Ron pulled his dick upward, laid it in the pubic hair, while his fingers scratched the pouch in between the legs.

“You don’t care either,” Nate said.

“I’ve got balls and girls seem to like them,” Ron said, “I mean, they see me, know I’m a man, so shorts or no shorts, like these are a surprise.”

Ron, though, picked up his dick, let Nate watch as the foreskin retracted, restored, and retracted.

“Wish I had it,” Nate said.

Ron teased his foreskin, drew out his hard erection, and watched the fast racers nearly fly the cars behind it.

* * *

Knock! Knock!

Gia got up from her chair in the dining room, went into the living room, and opened the door. Tracey was on the other side.

“If I didn’t know you, I’d say it was a bad time,” Tracey said as she glanced at the boobs hanging free.

“Come on in,” Gia said.

Tracey, the brunette with brown eyes, came in, followed Gia into the dining room.

“Hi,” Jen said.

Tracey, in her shirt and shorts, saw Jen with her small breasts, and Hermione. Hermione’s knees were next to her breasts, the feet obviously up on the seat with her butt.

“Oh,” Tracey said.

“Care for some tea?” Gia asked, taking a mug down from the rack.

“With milk,” Tracey said.

Gia poured a bit from the jug, added it to the tea in the mug, handed it over. Tracey sipped it, her eyes went over to Hermione.

“Haven’t seen you in, like, forever,” Tracey said.

“She goes to the same school as Harry,” Gia said, “In fact, she’s the one who set me up with him.”

“I didn’t set you up,” Hermione said, “I wasn’t expecting—”

“You bring home two handsome hunks, show them around, and _expect_ them to stay single?” Gia asked.

“Not when you put it like that,” Hermione said.

“What’s this school?” Tracey said, “Nudists United?”

“No,” Hermione said, “Those two boys have a certain…charm. Trust me, they were the only ones who could pull this off, along with my clothes.”

“You’ve grown from the Hermione I remember,” Tracey said.

“It’s been a while,” Hermione replied.

“Look, I’m sorry about the jerk I was,” Tracey said.

“I was part of that gang,” Gia said, “I’m not proud of it either, but we’re good friends now.”

“Our boyfriends would demand it,” Hermione said.

“So, your boyfriend is banging you too?” Tracey asked.

“I never said—” Hermione started.

“I see Gia and Harry doing it—they’re practically advertising it,” Tracey said.

“Ron and Hermione are…” Gia said, “…a bit more reserved about it.”

“Ron, when he gets horny, he’s less concerned about privacy,” Hermione said, “I’ve yielded, let him persuade me, and it usually works out.”

“How’s the sex?” Tracey asked.

“You’re going to get a big answer,” Jen said.

Hermione sipped her tea, held the mug on her right knee.

“Ron’s…it’s thick,” Hermione said, “So, full seal, gets every spot in my kitty, well, as far as it’ll reach, which is enough to get me into a full orgasm. I haven’t shaved like Gia has, and they both seem to like it. Harry’s thinner, so its not a complete suction, however, he’s also longer, so it goes deeper and he trips a different spot, that’s a different orgasm with him.”

“You let them _both_ in?” Tracey asked.

“Two hot boys,” Hermione said, “I’ll usually focus on Ron, but I love them both. Harry embraced it, felt if we took it right, we’d be better for it. There was some jealousy the boys had to work out, but with Gia here, Harry with her, mostly, and letting Ron in—”

“You’ve let this other boy in?” Tracey asked Gia.

“Harry shares everything with his best friends,” Gia said, “He’s like that, and decided that included me. I accepted. Most of the time, it’s Harry getting into me, but it’s nice to know that Ron can fancy me too.”

“You’ll flirt with any boy,” Tracey said.

“It’s … fun,” Gia said, “To get the boys to trip over their shorts—”

“Thanks for showing up to the meet,” Tracey said, “I think our win was due to your antics, even if you left early.”

“I had a doctor’s appointment,” Gia said, “I nearly forgot until Harry reminded me.”

“Nothing wrong?” Jen asked.

“Follow up, I’m on the pill,” Gia said.

“Smart,” Tracey said, “You should still have him wear protection.”

“Whole point of this pill was he didn’t need to,” Gia said, “Hermione’s on it too.”

“It’d be easier to refuse an advance if I asked for a condom,” Hermione said, “But I’d rather not worry about accidents than turning them down. Both Ron and Harry will respect me, after they ask a second or third time.”

“Do you turn them down often?” Tracey asked.

“Occasionally,” Hermione said, “Sometimes I just don’t feel like it, and, it’s good for them to know it’s not automatic, that they can’t just assume. As we’ve been good friends ever since we started…that school, they’re not willing to risk throwing that away.”

“So, Nate—?” Tracey asked.

“Had that coupon, so the boys are using it,” Jen said.

Gia went into the kitchen, started the tea kettle. She came back, leaned against the door jam.

“Be careful with that razor,” Tracey said to Gia.

Gia pressed against the small nick wound, an inch from her clitoris on her labia, where she had lost her concentration that morning.

“It’s minor,” Gia said.

“Get it waxed,” Tracey said, “That’ll make it last longer, and you won’t have to worry about shaving.”

“Doesn’t that hurt?” Gia asked.

“Why make it difficult on yourself?” Tracey said, “Harry clearly likes it smooth.”

“Harry’s not that shallow,” Hermione said, “He’d like her regardless — he likes mine.”

“He’s dating her,” Tracey said, pointed to Gia, “Doing anything today?”

“Boys are at the raceway,” Gia said.

“Perfect time to go out and get it done,” Tracey said.

“I suppose so,” Gia said. It was a good idea, to not worry about it, at least until it grows back, however, it was supposed to hurt. “I’ll do it.”

“Good, get dressed—” Tracey said, “Or, just going out like that?”

“Hadn’t thought about it,” Gia said, “I’m getting like Harry, too lazy to dress up.”

Hermione laughed.

“I’ll come,” Hermione said.

“A bit of shopping afterwards,” Jen said, “It’d be funny, the look on the clerks face while we’re shopping for clothes, completely starkers.”

Gia laughed, she appreciated the thought.

“You’re acting like—” Tracey said, “Daring.”

“In?” Gia asked.

“Yes,” Tracey said.

“I do need my purse,” Gia said.

Jen brought the milk jug into the kitchen while Gia got up. Gia went up the stairs, to her bedroom, a floor cluttered with the clothes that Harry would drop on that occasion he’d accidentally travel dressed, but also the same clothes he never picked up. Hedwig was on her perch, trying to nap. Gia grabbed her purse, put it over her shoulder, and went down the stairs. Tracey was there, with her light brown hair, including the carpet between her legs.

“This is freaky,” Tracey said, “I know you do it all the time.”

“Easy, step out the door,” Gia said.

“I’ll get waxed too,” Tracey said, “Should go better in the swimsuit.”

Hermione and Jen came down, purses over their shoulders. Gia opened the door. The four of them left the house, all starkers.

* * *

Harry came back with a cardboard tray full of beers, he handed one to Ron.

“Ta,” Ron said.

“It’s not the pub,” Nate said.

“I’m not saying _how_ ,” Harry said.

“Of course not, seems legit,” Nate said, “Cheers.”

Richard carried a tray of nachos; Stephan carried peanuts. They shared the dishes, while Ron watched the motorcars at the pit stop getting fueled and their tires changed.

“Why do they need to do that so often?” Ron asked.

Harry moved and sat next to Ron. Ron reached over, teased Harry’s foreskin.

“You just have to say _thank you_ ,” Harry said.

“Oh, you fed me the beer,” Ron replied.

“So one beer and you play with my todger?” Harry asked.

“Not that,” Ron said, his eyes now on Harry’s erection in the hand. Ron curled his fingers around the shaft, held it.

“Muggle automobiles need gas, and tires,” Harry said.

“It’s a race,” Richard said, over Nate, to Ron, “New tires for the best traction—so they change them often. On the regular road, you don’t change tires quite so often.”

“You’re really setting the example,” Nate said, “Jen likes that?”

“Yes!” Richard said, showing off his circumcised penis, “And Ant’s not that fussy.”

“Hey!” Stephen exclaimed.

“I’ve lost track of her boyfriends,” Richard said, “You’re just the most consistent, that’s all.”

“Yeah, this thing, it works,” Stephen said as he showed off his circumcised todger.

“I remember her comparing yours to Harry’s,” Richard said.

“Like it’s _my_ fault my parents had me circumcised as an infant?” Stephen said.

“Of course not,” Richard said.

“They are what they are,” Ron said, his eyes admired Harry’s shaft.

Screech!

Ron’s eyes looked back up, in time, as one race car began to collide in with another.

“Cool!” Nate said, as he stood, “Wrecks are the best!”

Ron stood, watched the drivers get out of the smoldering vehicles. Smoke turned to flame as the firetrucks got there. Harry stood next to Ron.

“Blimey!” Ron said, “Those things are dangerous!”

“Take a piss, help them put the fire out!” Nate said, glancing at Harry’s hard erection jutting out.

Ron sat back down. Harry turned slightly, gave a better side view to the other four, as he let the golden stream flow, pissed for them to watch.

“I can do it too,” Richard said, who simply aimed his soft dick upward from the seat. Richard pissed upward, but it didn’t go over the railing, puddled up on the stand’s metal in front of them.

“Now I have to risk stepping in that!” Stephen said, “Like you and Harry ever bother to think about that while running.”

“We go when we gotta go,” Harry said as he sat back down.

“Still funny to sit here with my balls hanging out,” Nate said.

“They’d still be there if you were wearing something,” Harry said, “Letting them free is the best feeling, well, apart from being played with.”

Ron held Harry’s testicles.

“You two—close,” Nate said.

“We’re brothers,” Harry said.

“No we’re not,” Ron snapped.

“Not by blood,” Harry said, “Good friends.”

“Obvious if you’re touching there,” Nate said.

“We share everything,” Harry said, “Including girlfriends, even while occupied.”

Ron sighed, relaxed, as he knew Harry was correct, as Harry wanted a brother. Ron found it nice to be wanted, because his real brothers rarely felt like that.

* * *

Hermione watched the warm wax being poured onto Tracey’s carpet as Tracey was on the table.

“So, you shouldn’t have shaved this morning,” Hermione said to Gia.

“Is there something your kind have?” Gia asked.

“Actually, I think there is,” Hermione said, “It’s not like I’ve wanted to make use of them, and I prefer the warmth this provides.” She patted her carpet.

“Ow!” Tracey exclaimed as the strip was pulled.

“Harry’s book might have it,” Hermione said.

“It’s nice to be…” Jen said, “I mean, a Saturday doing this. Nail salon next?”

“And hair?” Gia asked.

“I’m up for it,” Hermione said.

“Ow!” Tracey exclaimed as another cloth strip was pulled.

“You’re usually into studying,” Gia said.

“Tomorrow,” Hermione said, “A bad habit from the boys.”

“You love them,” Jen said.

“What’s not to love?” Hermione said, “Confident, Kind, Considerate—usually, Responsible—mostly, Handsome. When I’m around them, it’s like there’s nothing we can’t handle, no matter how nasty it got.” She realized how much she’s come to be defined _by_ them.

“With my home destroyed, my parents gone, I’ve had to leap,” Gia said, “I trust that Harry’ll be there, always.”

Hermione hadn’t told Gia her persistent dream yet, one that was a culmination of worry and doubt. She knew Harry tended to wing it, trusting that he’ll get it right when he must make a choice.

“I know Richard…” Jen stopped, her finger worked her clit, and she started to relax.

“Always the advantage of running around starkers,” Gia said, “Yes, we’ve been around Harry and Ron, a lot.”

“Yes,” Hermione said.

“Ahh…” Tracey muttered as a cream was applied around her pelvis.

Hermione felt the ease in spending the day, hanging out with three who were her schoolmates before Hogwarts.

* * *

Sun cast five shadows, one each from the hard cocks; Harry, Ron, Nate, Richard, and Stephen were leaning against the railing, still watching the cars racing past, their hard cocks, all five of them, jutted outward.

“We’re not going to get off like this,” Nate said.

“I’m not paying,” Ron said, “I’m…my family…”

“Don’t worry,” Harry said.

“Suppose we could go over to them—” Stephen pointed to some cheerleaders, with their pompoms, and spandex underneath shorts “—ask them to rank us.”

“You talk me into going starkers,” Nate said, “Now I’m trying to give my willy the best coverage!”

“It is what it is,” Harry said, “Lemme ask you this, what good is having the greatest cock if you’re unwilling to let it be seen? Girls look, they study, they may take notes, but in the end, confidence wins over a lot more than being the best cock ever. My balls aren’t perfectly level, my cock—what matters is that Gia likes it, after that, it’s gravy.”

“Get your _gravy_ on,” Nate said.

“After you,” Harry replied.

“Wave,” Richard said, pointed.

Not too far away, a photographer trained his camera at the boys, with the five hard erections on display. Five crops of pubic hair, five pairs of balls hanging loose, the photographer simply smiled, waved, and turned the camera back to the cars.

“He just…” Nate stuttered.

“It _is_ on display,” Harry said. Harry turned his attention to Nate’s erection, with the curvature of the shaft, the glans bent to the right. “Just use it.”

Harry felt the fingers on his shaft.

“Ron!” Harry said, seeing Ron quickly retreat the fingers, “Don’t encourage it!”

“Like you’ll orgasm just standing there,” Ron said.

“You’re probably right,” Harry said, “Still, don’t assist!”

“There’s plenty around,” Stephen said, hand sweeping to indicate the other spectators, including some other teenage girls.

“And we’re in their dreams now,” Harry said.

“You can wait, you’ll have pussy tonight,” Nate said.

“Maybe,” Ron said, “Hermione’s not like Gia, Hermione’s … it’s more like two or three times a week with her. Unlike Gia who’s desiring a daily does, Hermione, she’s bright, she’s friendly, she’ll cuddle a lot, but she’s a bit more reserved, sexually.”

“Yet I saw her naked at the house,” Nate said.

“We’ve persuaded her it’s more comfortable,” Harry said, “Which it is.”

“I’ll grant you that,” Nate said.

“Hermione,” Ron said, “We’ve got to be a bit more conservative. Gia’s the one who wants to experiment. Heck, Hermione doesn’t even do her nails.”

* * *

The file went down on Hermione’s toe nails, straightening them out. Her feet were lowered into the hot water foot spa, the vibrations went through her.

“Aren’t you glad you did this?” Tracey asked, from the next chair over.

“Yes,” Hermione said.

“You didn’t seem like the person who’d do this,” Tracey said.

“Things change,” Hermione said, “And it’s good to treat myself once in a while.”

“You should consider a wax,” Tracey said, “Sure, a bit of pain, but totally hot.”

“No,” Hermione said, “I’ve got two great boys who’ll fuck me at a moments notice, and are happy the way I am. If there’s a way, I’d probably get double occupancy. They’re the same two boys who first talked me into streaking, and, I can put up with it because of them.”

“Any girl type friends at this school of yours?” Tracey asked.

“I used to…not so hot anymore,” Hermione said. “Those two boys, they’re pretty much my only friends at that school.”

“Isolating you is a sign of abuse,” Tracey said, “Controlling your social connections is a way abusive boyfriends—”

“They’re not the ones doing it,” Hermione said, “It’s everybody else isolating us. That’s why slipping away for the weekend, coming here, doing this, is so nice—I know you weren’t nice years ago, but Gia said you had changed.”

“Life happens,” Tracey said.

“Yep,” Hermione said.

Their feet were lifted. A pumice stone ran across Hermione’s heels, cut down the calluses. She definitely appreciated leaving Hogwarts for the weekend, pretending to be a normal Muggle had a certain allure to it, and being pampered to this pedicure was magic. Maybe she’d be able to talk Ron into them visiting Madam Tarbet’s in Hogsmeade during their next visit, get his opinion of style.

“This redness is supposed to go away, right?” Tracey asked, motioning to the skin between the legs.

“Several hours, yes,” Hermione said, “And light on the clothing—which being starkers counts.”

“I admit that’s the most daring part I see about you right now,” Tracey said.

“It wasn’t easy, at first,” Hermione said, “Self–conscious about everything, even these—” She pointed to her breasts “—Harry and Ron—”

“You really talk about them a lot,” Tracey said.

“We’ve been through a lot and I trust them with my life,” Hermione said, “So if they’re happy with them, or willing to lie about it, then everything’s fine. I do believe them when they tell me it’s okay. Of all those judging my body, their opinions are the ones that matter to me, nobody else.”

“I’m happy for you,” Tracey said, “You’ve found not just one, but two boyfriends to serve you.”

“We’re friends, first and foremost, friends,” Hermione said, “And there’s comfort in knowing they’ll sort it out if they ever—lets face it, you live with people, you’re going to step on toes, can’t be helped.”

“True,” Tracey said, “Nate’s okay, he’s not perfect, but okay.”

A cream was applied to their feet, rubbed into her skin.

“You weren’t doing the polish, right?” Tracey asked.

“No,” Hermione said.

Hermione waited a minute until the cream was dried, got up, went over to the waiting chair. Jen spun around, sat where Hermione was.

“School’s got you worried?” Gia asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said, “It’s a shitstorm. As Voldemort seems to go on an annual plan that comes to a head in June, and it’s merely October, yes, it’ll get worse.”

Hermione, of course, worried about Voldemort’s plan. She couldn’t quite work in how the shitstorm at school worked into that plan, but she reasoned it likely was a plan that would end up with Harry, dead. Her persistent nightmare was a warning to her.

“Never mind that, how are your feet?” Gia asked.

“Better,” Hermione said, a smile on her face.

“Calluses will return,” Gia said, “We’re walking barefoot.”

“Need Ron and that broom,” Hermione said.

Tracey came over, Gia went up to that chair.

“You’re not up for a breast enhancement?” Tracey asked.

“No!” Hermione said, “Ron likes my tits just the way they are, and his opinion is the one that counts!”

Tracey and Hermione didn’t talk further while Gia’s feet were cleaned, washed, soaked, scrubbed, and done. Jen was already standing with them by the time Gia came over. Gia had bottle green toenails that matched the fingernails, which Hermione knew matched Harry’s eyes. Hermione wondered if she should suggest hair color.

“Next, the shops,” Gia said.

Hermione and Tracey stood, went over to the counter, when Hermione glanced outside of the beauty salon.

“This way!” Hermione said, as she recognized the lady approaching the door.

Hermione ducked behind a tall plant. Gia followed Hermione, while Jen and Tracey remained where they were.

“What?” Gia asked.

“There,” Hermione said.

Hermione saw it, the woman that entered and approached the desk; Linda Granger spoke to the receptionist.

“I’ve got a wax appointment—” Mrs. Granger said.

“That’s more than I needed to know, Mum,” Hermione whispered.

“You’ve got that spell,” Gia whispered.

“It won’t work on her about _me_ ,” Hermione whispered.

Linda Granger walked past Jen and Tracey, went into the back. Gia and Hermione went up to the counter.

“Sorry about that,” Hermione said, “Gia…can you spot?”

“Yes,” Gia said, handed over her credit card.

“Hermione,” Tracey said, “Was that who I thought it was?”

Gia took the receipt, put it into the purse hanging from her shoulder. Gia tapped her breasts, and they left the salon, walked out onto High Street. Tracey and Jen were right behind them.

“Yes, it was my mother,” Hermione said.

“Go back and say hello,” Tracey said.

“She thinks I’m at school,” Hermione said, “I’d like to keep it that way.”

“So she doesn’t know you’re strutting around, starkers?” Tracey asked.

“Please keep it that way,” Hermione said.

“I will,” Tracey said, “Hermione, the stickler for the rules…now…”

“Two boys changed me,” Hermione said, “Sometimes its best not to mind the rules.”

“As I’ve seen it,” Jen said, “Those four, including Gia, are tight, very tight. Don’t dare interfere with it.”

Tracey held the door, they entered H&M’s .

“It’s cool, what you’ve become,” Tracey said to Hermione, “Still studious?”

“Yes,” Hermione said, “The boys tease me, but they’re both bright themselves, in their own way, though they’ll pretend they’re not.”

“Sounds typical,” Tracey said, “And once the testosterone hits their blood—good bye grades!”

“Kinda the threat Harry used to commute,” Hermione said, “They didn’t want him to flunk out, so they caved, and he’s the exception at a boarding school.”

“Aw,” Tracey said.

“But Harry’s intuition is good, strong,” Hermione said, “He understands the big picture.”

* * *

Harry’s foreskin stayed wrapped, let the slit bare as he pissed. He jumped.

“Yes, yes!” Harry said.

“How many beers?” Stephen asked.

“One, maybe two,” Ron said.

Harry’s stream wobbled, spread itself across the pavement as they walked. Stephen carried his clothes as he followed the other four. They followed the tracks in Noigate, for a short ways, and came to the Repulsive Rabbit . They entered the pub.

“That was cool!” Ron said as he sat.

Harry brought over a couple of mugs of ale, handed one down to Ron. Nate brought over some pretzels.

“Wings are coming,” Nate said.

“We’re flying?” Ron asked.

“As if, no,” Nate said, “Takes them a few minutes.”

“So, you really did leave your clothes at home,” Stephen said to Richard, “I know you two run starkers.”

“We never finished the run this morning, got interrupted,” Richard said, “Figure I’ll worry about dressing after I finish the run.”

Stephen laughed.

“I know Andy’ll have a fit,” Stephen said, “She always has a fit.”

“She goes through boyfriends…” Richard said, “Take Harry, here, a young lad commuted home with him, seemed to calm her down, but she dumped the kid.”

“You mean Ash?” Stephen asked.

“Him,” Harry said, “I took him under my wing at school, he followed … I don’t know what really transpired. She seemed to like him, dumped him, and I had to pick up the pieces. At that point, I had to put my foot down, stop it any further, because I had a duty to protect Ash. Next day, you’re back. Ash’s doing better in school too.”

“I’ve got a duty to Andy,” Stephen said.

“I’m the brother,” Richard said, “As much as I’m forced to admit it, I mean.”

Ron leaned back, put his hands behind his head, which left the handful of red armpit hairs exposed.

“I’ve got—plenty of brothers, and a sister,” Ron said, “They can be pains in the arse.”

“If we count them,” Richard said, “Ant’s had…you Stephen, Henry, Frank, I think Philip, Ash, and back to you Stephen. I likely missed a few.”

“So, she can’t make up her mind,” Stephen said, “I respect that. Heck—you two are humping the same girlfriends!” He pointed to Ron and Harry.

“Two girls, two boys,” Harry said, “It’s not changing.”

“Until it does,” Stephen said, “Andy wanted a bit of space, experimented, and came back to me.”

* * *

“Want to try the fragrance?” Gia asked.

“Sure,” Hermione said.

Gia and Hermione walked over to the perfume counter. The lady behind it, gazed at the two pairs of bare breasts in front of her.

“They are natural,” Gia said.

“Of course, of course,” the lady said.

“Should we go for floral?” Gia asked, “Or something more—”

“THIEF!”

Hermione glanced up. Andy ran along the tiled path, before she vanished.

“Any guesses?” Gia whispered to Hermione.

“Not sure,” Hermione said, “We’ll start with something that has an outdoor scent.”

Hermione figured flowers wouldn’t be appealing to Ron or Harry, but smelling like a Quidditch Pitch would be.

Tracey and Jen came over.

“Good,” Tracey said, “Going starkers, little point to worrying about fashion, not like anybody seems to care.”

“That’s likely Harry, he’s got a knack for it,” Hermione said, “Sure, I talk about Harry and Ron a lot because they are my life. It looks like it’ll be an extraordinary year at school, so I retreat into them, as it’ll be a shared pain. We continue to go because the education is that important. My dreams, my hopes, rest on Harry and Ron.”

* * *

Harry knelt on the table, pointed to his hard erection, above the layer of beer bottles.

“This cock grew to seventy feet!” Harry said.

“He’s plastered,” Nate said.

“It positively works, and it’s even in the original packaging,” Harry said as he pulled at his foreskin.

“It is nice,” Ron said.

“Thank you!” Harry said.

Harry flexed his hips, showed the hardness jutting out to all four of them. His warm testicles hung loose.

“Ideas for playing with Andy,” Stephen said.

“We’ll deny everything,” Richard replied.

“You’re staring at it, aren’t you?” Stephen asked Nate.

“In a certain way, I can appreciate them,” Nate said, “He’s obviously proud of it.”

“You, Ron, played with it earlier,” Richard said.

“Gotta let go,” Ron said, “You know, when you’re trying to both work the same girl, yeah, our todgers have danced before.”

“Come on Ron!” Harry exclaimed.

“Later,” Ron said.

“Yeah, right,” Richard said.

“HEY!” came the shout from a man behind the bar, “You—” he pointed to the boys “—too much, time to leave!”

“Lemme check up on Andy,” Stephen said.

“You can keep her,” Richard said as he stood.

“I’ll handle him,” Ron said, as he led Harry off the table.

“We’re leaving?” Harry asked.

“You’re drunk,” Ron said, “Come.”

“See you back at the house,” Richard said.

“In a bit, let Harry burn this off,” Ron replied.

Ron brought Harry out of the pub, and they walked along in the pleasant evening. Ron had his arm around Harry, while Harry held on to keep his balance.

“I’m fine,” Harry said, “Love me?”

“Yeah, yes,” Ron said.

Harry started to piss as they walked, a squiggle formed on the pavement. Ron brought Harry into a park, a playground.

“We play!” Harry exclaimed.

“I should’ve asked for directions,” Ron said, laid Harry on the grass.

Ron sat next to Harry.

“You—me?” Harry asked, brought Ron’s hand to the hard cock.

Harry’s fingers moved Ron’s, Ron understood the message. Harry did need to sleep, and Ron knew the fastest way. Ron knelt by Harry, between the legs. Ron leaned over, felt the loose testicles, and placed Harry’s foreskin between the lips. Ron licked, the tongue explored around the foreskin, and it retracted.

“Oh…yes,” Harry said.

Ron’s tongue massaged the glans, while his left fingers held the shaft, and his right kept tickling Harry’s balls. Ron kept this up for the few seconds it took, to feel the pumping, the spasms in the dick. Ron pulled back, watched the lava spew out. Harry’s head went limp as it fell to the side, he began to snore.

“Now, home,” Ron said.

Ron stood, lifted Harry, placed him over the shoulder, and walked, as best as he could remember. Ron came to Pine Street, stopped.

“What’s wrong?” asked the familiar voice.

Ron saw them, Hermione and Gia leading the way, the four girls, all starkers, all carrying bags along with their purses. Ron’s cock stiffened.

“He fell asleep,” Ron said, not wanting to spill everything.

“Richard? Nate?” Hermione asked.

“Should be home by now,” Ron said, “We—I…well, it’s not my town.”

Ron followed Hermione, only a street away from 26 Oak as they walked the path, to return to the orange bricked building with its green front door.

“Okay, so this is Ron?” Tracey said, her eyes surveyed Ron, with his hard erection and the red pubic hair, “He is handsome, so I’ll give you that Hermione.”

“What?” Ron asked.

“I’m not telling,” Tracey said as she went for her clothes on the sofa.

Ron, though, carried Harry up the steps, into Gia’s bedroom, and put him on the bed. Ron laid onto the bed, pulled Harry close, before he fell to sleep.

Sunday, Ron, Harry, Nate, and Richard returned to Motorsport Boys Raceway for the demolition derby.

* * *

A snake slithered beneath the feet of the legs from the person sitting upon a chair in front of the slow burning fireplace. Through the flames, a pair of green images floated in the air. In one, a pasty balding small man brewed a potion in a cauldron upon the stone of a different fireplace within the premises. In the other image, two people sat around a table that was provisioned with a bountiful meal. The potion brewer frequently glanced at the two diners, while all three were watched by the pair of red slitted eyes of the first person. At the table, the Keeper and the Seeker talked after their Sunday supper.

“See the fallout from your excellent work last month?” the Keeper said, “While we need to keep the deaths down for now, Potter is now tainted by murder.”

“And again after I poisoned the school lunch,” the Seeker said, “I tried that new weather blaster this morning, it’s pissing the students off, but the Headmaster is being the Headmaster, go figure.”

“It is working,” the Keeper said, “So, who exactly is this Gia Prescott?”

“Potter’s dirty Muggle _girlfriend_ ,” the Seeker said, “Why Potter would bring her to the smoldering ruins that a Muggle is uncertain.”

“We will certainly have to do something about _that_ ,” the Keeper said, “Though I understand the Weasleys are about to have problems.”

The Seeker smiled.

* * *

1 Celcius.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I've been finishing the chapters rather fast, but my winter holiday is nearly over, so the posting schedule will return to a more normal/sustainable pace.


	39. Maverick

It was still dark Monday morning as Harry activated his Portkey. All starkers, Ron and Hermione held on. A chill greeted them as they landed at Hogwarts, on Harry’s four poster bed, an icy feeling on their feet that quickly made sense as they climbed off the bed. Their bare feet sank into the white crystals, a good foot and a half of snow on the floor of the dormitory, as steam of their breath went out their nostrils.

“Blimey!” Ron exclaimed, “What happened?”

“It snowed,” Harry said, seeing the snow drifts against the empty beds.

“I see that,” Ron said.

Hermione trudged through it, into the bathroom.

“No hot water!” Hermione exclaimed.

“I’m glad I took my shower a few minutes ago,” Harry said, as his foot kicked enough snow off his trunk to open it, “Laundry’s fine.”

Harry found his thick socks, put those on, and dressed. Ron trudged through it, the bitter cold went up his legs as he went into the bathroom with Hermione, where a sheet of ice coated the floor, underneath the foot of snow.

“I say we crash another year’s,” Ron said.

Ron went back out, his feet threatening to go numb as he crossed over to the door, opened it. Snow covered the stairs too, some splatters of red blood mixed into it. Ron turned back around.

“It’s…well,” Ron said, “It’s not just in here.”

Ron went back over, where Harry had already cleared the table, the chairs, and was feverishly working on an essay as food started to appear.

“That’s due, like in—” Ron said.

“I know!” Harry snapped.

Ron dressed, along with Hermione.

“Glad the House–Elfs got the hint,” Hermione said, “My clothes are in Ron’s trunk, well, some of them.”

“Good,” Harry said.

“Shouldn’t we, like figure out this blizzard?” Ron asked.

“I’ve got to turn in Transfiguration first thing before classes,” Harry said, “So, this can’t wait.”

“You’ve had a week,” Hermione said.

“I know!” Harry said, “Let me finish it.”

Ron sipped on the hot chocolate, it warmed him up. He grabbed his bookbag, his Firebolt.

“I’m checking the rest of this out,” Ron said.

“For once, flying seems sane,” Hermione said.

Ron mounted his broom, Hermione got onto the back and held onto Ron. Ron flew the Firebolt, slowly, out the door and down the stairs. Every other door was open, footprints in the deluge, that trampled it down the foot and a half that was consistent between rooms.

“Of all the stupid pranks!” muttered Finnigan, in the common room, as he scooped with the snow shovel, tossed it into the corner. Students, including Ash, shivered in front of the Fireplace, the only spot that was warm.

“At least it stopped,” Thomas said, “There they are!”

“A broom!” Finnigan exclaimed.

Ron flew his Firebolt out of the portrait hole, onto the seventh floor corridor, where the snow was even higher, about three feet, with a valley of footprints in the middle. However, both sides had snowman after snowman.

“It should’ve been over twenty yesterday,” Hermione said, “No way it’d snow.”

“Bewitched,” Ron said.

Ron flew down the stair cases, also covered in snow, along the corridors, and made his way down to the first floor.

“It is a pretty winter wonderland,” Hermione said.

“It is anything _but_ Miss. Granger,” said Professor McGonagall, her wand aimed at a snow shovel clearing out her classroom, “I trust you were with Mr. Potter yesterday?”

“Yes,” Ron said, “Watched Muggles destroying their automobiles.”

“It’s called a demolition derby,” Hermione said, “A pastime for some, a spectacle for others, and a lot of dents.”

“A broom, I think I’ll advise all students to use them until this snow is cleared,” Professor McGonagall said, “It started yesterday and seems to have stopped a short while ago. Obviously, we’re trying to clean up.”

“We should be able to just charm it—” Ron started.

“We tried that at first,” Professor McGonagall said, “It just causes it to snow even more. No, we’re restricted to muggle means for snow removal. As you see, I’m testing out charming the snow shovel instead, but it has to be a real snow shovel, not conjured.”

“I take it the schedule will be off,” Hermione said.

“We will keep the students posted,” Professor McGonagall said, “I will see you later.’

Ron moved the Firebolt forward, flew further, went down the marble stairs to where Hagrid was.

“Hello Ron, Hermione,” Hagrid said as he used a big shovel in the Entrance Hall.

“Suppose classes are canceled,” Ron said.

“Mine’s still on,” Hagrid said.

“With all this snow?” Hermione asked.

“Blimey, pay attention!” Hagrid said, “Only snow inside the castle, not outside. It’s balmy outside.”

Ron pulled the broom to the left, went out the front doors, and felt the warm air as the sun was rising, to show every blade of green grass.

“Okay, so it _is_ magic snow,” Hermione said.

Ron felt Hermione’s fingers squeeze inward as he flew upward, to the dormitory window, and they entered. They got off the Firebolt, and their feet sunk into snow on the floor. Harry was still at the table, writing fast.

“How was the weather?” Harry asked while Hermione shivered.

“Only an issue inside,” Ron said.

“I’m guessing the others have already made up their minds,” Harry said.

“Likely,” Hermione said, “We didn’t bother to ask.”

Harry kept writing, quill to the inkjar, back to the parchment, repeatedly.

“Hagrid’s is first,” Ron said, “Think I’ll wait outside. Hermione?”

Ron mounted his Firebolt.

“You want to fly,” Hermione said, getting on behind him.

“It _is_ warmer out there,” Ron said

“I’ll…I’ll give you that,” Hermione said as they left the dormitory.

It was warmer, way warmer outside, and Hermione’s shivering came to an end. Ron took the long way around the black lake.

“Ron!” Hermione said.

“It’s a wonderful morning,” Ron replied.

Harry caught up with Ron, and they flew over to Hagrid’s Hut for Care of Magical Creatures. Just in front of the hut was a big crate, full of round objects.

“Dragon eggs!” Harry exclaimed.

“Right yeh ar’,” Hagrid said.

“About to pelt those at students?” Malfoy sneered as he approached, he dusted some snow off his cloak, “At lease its _warm_ out here.”

Mutterings were audible as the other students, including Finnigan, arrived.

“Somebody’s going for a rather large omelet,” Finnigan said.

Hagrid faced them.

“Yer class project’s teh raise them,” Hagrid said.

“In a dilapidated wooden shack?” Malfoy snapped.

“Bring em up teh the school,” Hagrid said.

“Sure, freeze them,” Finnigan said.

Harry, though, took the first step toward the crate, took a few more, and reached in. He grabbed an egg.

“Good job ‘arry,” Hagrid said, “Everybody take one, follow me!”

Ron and Hermione took the next two, walked with Harry, and followed Hagrid. The others did the same. Hagrid went up the front steps, through the doors, into the cool Entrance Hall. Snow crunched beneath their shoes while a small dusting added to the pile they were traversing. A few careful steps, they followed Hagrid along the ground floor corridor, into a classroom.

“Whew,” Ron said, “A sauna.”

As an exception to the snowpack, due to the heat from numerous fires around the walls, and inside this classroom. This classroom was hot and humid, with its floors cleared.

“Fine place for a class,” Malfoy sneered as he fluffed the front of his shirt.

“The door’s over ‘ere,” Hagrid pointed as he spoke.

“Oaf finally learns what a _door_ is,” Malfoy said.

“Belt it!” Harry snapped.

“Don’t you dare tell me—” Malfoy warned.

“Ten points fro’ Slytherin,” Hagrid said, “Eggs need attention.”

Harry put his egg into one of the hot pans, above the many flames of the room.

“Kinda like first year,” Ron whispered.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Take notes,” Hagrid said.

“We ain’t staying,” Finnigan said.

Quickly, all save Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid left the classroom.

“It’s not the heat,” Harry lied as he rapidly pulled his shirt off his chest to let it back on, to fan himself.

“Yeh watch ‘em,” Hagrid said, “‘ust report at end of class, more snow to shovel.”

Hagrid left the classroom.

* * *

Ash pressed against Gale in History of Magic; his butt nearly frozen into the chair. Ash shivered, felt Gale shivering.

“Department of Mysteries first established the location owing to something they had found there,” Professor Binns said, oblivious to the two feet of snow that he was standing in, “At the time, the Ministry only had a broom cupboard. The bright and young Minister—”

“I’m fucking cold,” Gale said to Ash.

“—created the headquarters we know today as the—” Professor Binns said.

“Lets find someplace better,” Ash whispered. He felt the hold–over from that girl, Andy.

“Agreed,” Gale said.

Gale and Ash stood.

“You’re going to—” Buck started.

“Shh!” Gale said.

Several others glared as Gale and Ash left the snow covered classroom, to the snow coated first floor corridor as more flurries kept coming down.

SPLAT!

Ash moved before the next snowball flew past them.

“Sorry!” Finnigan shouted down the corridor, “Thought you were Slytherins.”

Ash and Gale approached, both shivered.

“Cold?” Thomas asked.

“Yes,” Gale said as Ash nodded.

“Ground floor corridor, third door on your left,” Finnigan said.

“You wouldn’t—” Thomas whispered to Finnigan.

“Thanks,” Gale said.

Ash and Gale left, went down the corridor while Finnigan laughed.

“Mr. Finnigan!” Professor McGonagall snapped.

Ash and Gale quickly went down the steps. Ash slipped beneath the snow, slid down to land on his butt.

“Ow,” Ash muttered as he rolled to stand up.

“This way,” Gale said as he pointed.

Ash followed, and they went down the corridor. Gale counted .

“One…two…three,” Gale counted, as they came to the door whose’s doorstep was suspiciously dry.

Gale opened the door. Light, heat, blasted out; Ash felt the sudden change, entered. Gale followed, into the classroom, with the many fires, and pans with the large dragon eggs in them.

“Still looks fine,” Ron said, sweat soaked into his shirt, while glancing a pan with six eggs.

“Hi Ash,” Harry said, “Welcome to the…erm…Dragon Nest.”

Ash felt hot, too hot, so he pulled his shirt off, dropped his trousers.

“Ash!” Gale snapped.

“Better,” Ash said as he kicked his shoes off to stand there, naked, with his intact penis hanging loose.

“Actually, good idea,” Harry said, as he pulled his shirt off. Harry dropped his trousers.

“Me too,” Ron said, following the example.

“I didn’t need strippers!” Gale exclaimed.

“It’s fucking hot,” Ash said, his hand felt his scrotum loosening as it warmed.

“I’m not,” Hermione said.

Ash came over to them. He glanced at Ron’s loose, very loose, scrotum, the balls hanging beneath the penis, the red pubic hair. The same with Harry’s, before Ash peered into the pan.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in class?” Ron asked.

“It’s a snow pile,” Ash said, “We couldn’t stay warm.”

“Boys!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Ash!” Gale exclaimed.

Eyes focused on Ash’s crotch as his dick stiffened.

“Yeah, does that,” Ash said, “Not too hot, not too cold, feels right.” It still felt hot to Ash, also felt his toes warming up.

“In front of them?” Gale asked.

“Then go back to history!” Ash said.

Gale left.

“Ash!” Harry said.

“We just needed to warm up,” Ash said, “Dragon Eggs?”

“A project for the sixth years,” Hermione said.

“Cool!” Ash replied.

Ash’s fingers curled around his erection, began to stroke it. He watched the eggs stay idle in the pan as he tossed.

“Ash!” came Harry’s exclamation as Ash felt the release. Ash’s cock ejaculated, laid the semen onto the floor. “I think you’ve warmed up.”

“Yeah,” Ash said, “I’d like to see them hatch.”

Ash watched for the brief moment as his semen dried up, before he got dressed and returned to History.

“Where is this classroom?” Buck asked Gale.

“Third door on the ground floor corridor,” Gale said as Buck shivered, “Fucking hot.”

“Harry Potter’s in there,” Ash said, as he knew that Harry nor Ron were likely dressed and might want to be alone.

“I’d rather not,” Buck said, “Let me know when he leaves, I’m not as brave as _you_ —it’s probably a trap after his blizzard.”

Ash knew better than to contest the fallacy, he had seen several others beaten already and didn’t want to join those ranks, so Ash did what he knew best and remained quiet.

* * *

As word of the Dragon Nest spread, the visitors grew as it was a place to warm up, faster than just going outside, although that worked too. However, Harry and Ron were knee deep in the dormitory as they changed into their Quidditch Robes that afternoon.

“On the bright side, plenty of room to store your perishables,” Hermione said, sitting at the table, both it, the chair, and her feet were dry. A small fire was coming from a dish on the table.

“We can take you somewhere else,” Ron said.

“I’ll manage,” Hermione said, “Besides, nobody else will be disturbing me.”

Harry and Ron flew out the open window beneath the cloudy sky. Harry felt the itchiness on his skin, skin that was used to flying starkers, but now was covered. He hoped the tides would change so that he could once again enjoy free flight over the Quidditch Pitch.

“Couldn’t be bothered with walking?” Oliver Wood asked as Harry approached.

“Flying’s faster,” Harry said.

“Heh,” Oliver Wood said.

“Remember, this is _my_ team,” Ron said.

“It was either me supervising or Professor Snape,” Oliver Wood said.

Harry mounted his Firebolt after the Snitch was released, and he flew. Harry dodged the bludgers several times over the course of the two hours as the shadows kept getting longer.

* * *

Gia pulled herself backward in the water, in the swimming pool, before she decided she needed a break. She pushed at the shallow end, sat on the edge of the pool with her lower legs in the water. Next to her was the green swim trunks with the yellow stripe. Nate came to a halt in front of her, the smooth chest, the blond pubic hair and the stiffening cock just above the water.

“You’re keeping it up,” Nate said, “Good.” His eyes surveyed her, the bare breasts, the smooth labia around her vagina between her parted legs.

“Wish I were _on_ the team,” Gia said, “Still, think it helps in bed with Harry.”

“You two don’t bother with a bed,” Nate said.

“Not usually,” Gia said, “Though we’ll use a bed if we’re on it.”

Nate chuckled, held his tight balls beneath the hard erection with its circumcised shaft and glans jutting outward toward her.

“You loosened up,” Gia said, “Need these?” She grabbed the swim trunks.

“Don’t you dare!” Nate exclaimed.

“You don’t need them,” Gia said, tossing them over to the bench.

“Gia!” Nate stammered.

“You’re handsome,” Gia said, “Don’t cover up, after Harry talked you into it.”

“Two days—it was nice,” Nate said, “Watch this.”

Nate held his cock, aimed it upward, and showed the yellow stream that formed as he pissed.

“Harry is like that,” Gia said, “He’ll—”

“What’d I do?” Harry asked as he came over to her.

“Everything,” Gia said, her eyes went up to the naked sixteen year old with his raven black hair, and his bottle green eyes, as he stood there.

“You’re tolerant,” Nate said, “Can’t say I’d be the same if you were next to Tracey.”

Harry came down to a squat, right knee up, left one on the deck; on Gia’s right, while he looked at Nate.

“If there was a problem—don’t,” Harry said, “If you’re enjoying being starkers, great! I love it, so does Gia, and glad you’re liking it too.”

“It was—that day went different than I had planned,” Nate said.

“How you act with a stiffy says a lot about you,” Harry said, “Gia likes it.”

“Harry!” Gia said.

“I mean, you’re looking at it, right?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Gia muttered.

“I see five, maybe six others, watching ours,” Harry said, “I’m fine, are you fine with it Nate?”

“Sort of,” Nate said.

“You see Gia, you get hard like me,” Harry paused as his dick stiffened. “See? I find her pretty too, she likes seeing that, right?”

“Yes,” Gia said. Harry had caught on ages ago to her fondness of teasing, that Nate’s stiffy did give her some satisfaction.

“Gia, do I have a day to talk to you about!” Harry said.

“I won’t keep you,” Nate said, as he turned around, pushed off into a front crawl. Nate’s buttocks flexed with his kicks.

“Come,” Harry said as he grabbed Gia’s hand.

Gia got onto her knees, and they stood up together. Naked, Gia grabbed her bookbag, the cuff of her trousers stuck out of it, and they left the building.

“Don’t threaten Nate—” Gia started.

“It’s not meant as a threat!” Harry exclaimed.

“Then what did you mean?” Gia asked.

Harry stopped her, turned to face.

“I know you like seeing boys starkers and get hard, you like flirting, right?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Gia said, hesitant.

“I like that about you too, so I’m fine with you teasing Nate,” Harry said, “I just know that boys can get…cocky when they’re cocky, push too far. It’s not a threat, simply a line, a line that if he crosses, that you’re in agreement with it. If a cock touches you, that it’s consensual, period. If you decide to let Nate bang you, I’d…I’ll learn to accept it, like watching Ron bang you.”

“I thought you were—” Gia said.

“It was tough the first time I watched,” Harry said, “It was good that I did learn to love Ron instead, to embrace it, but I had to learn, like Ron did when I banged Hermione.”

“Dinner?” Gia asked.

“My wallet’s at the house,” Harry said.

“My treat,” Gia said.

They kept walking.

“So, let me tell you about the blizzard,” Harry said, before he began to describe it.

“You were blamed?” Gia asked as they came to Island Vineyard ; she felt the pressure building in her rump.

“Yeah,” Harry said as they entered, “Even though it started yesterday when I was at that demolition derby.”

People glanced at the two naked teenagers, but a waitress came up to them. The waitress glanced at Harry’s soft penis hanging there.

“How many?” the lady asked.

“Two,” Gia said.

“This way,” the lady said.

They were escorted to a booth, sat.

“Drinks?” the waitress asked.

“I’ll have—” Harry started.

“Soda, and so will I,” Gia said, “Diet.”

The waitress left the menus as she left.

“Gia!” Harry said.

“I know what you were going to order,” Gia said, “It’s a school night.”

They studied the menus, ordered.

“So, Hagrid got the dragon eggs,” Harry said, “We’re—”

Pfffpt!

“Excuse me,” Gia said as she stood, “It’s the one you don’t like to watch.”

Gia felt the rumblings, the pressure as she made for the back.

“Gia!” came the voice.

Linda Granger was there.

“Excuse me,” Gia pointed to the restroom.

“I had to freshen up myself,” Linda Granger said.

Gia entered, went for the stall.

Pfffpt! Pfffpt!

Gia felt the sludge move while the faucet was being run.

“Dinner?” Linda Granger asked.

“Yes,” Gia said, “Gotta make room.”

“I know,” Linda Granger said, “So you and Harry—”

“Still together,” Gia said, as she wiped.

“Aw, a date,” Linda Granger said.

Flush!

Gia left the stall.

“Yes,” Gia said as she washed her hands at the next sink.

“I couldn’t help noticing your attire,” Linda Granger said.

“Harry likes it,” Gia said.

“It’s not always the most appropriate,” Linda Granger said, “Don’t you get into trouble?”

“Nope,” Gia said, “And it’ll continue until Harry thinks otherwise.”

“A boy should not bully you—” Linda Granger said.

“He’s not,” Gia said, “It’s my choice, without having to worry about dry cleaning.”

Gia left the bathroom, Linda Granger followed.

“Oh,” Harry said, as his eyes went up to Linda, in a magenta dress.

“Hello,” Linda Granger said, “I take it, you’re…commuting.”

“Yes,” Harry said, “It lets me and her—” he pointed at Gia “—see each other.”

“You’re succeeding there,” Linda Granger said, her eyes glanced at Gia with her breasts freely exposed, “My daughter doing alright?”

“Yes,” Harry said, “She’s…still getting top marks. Ron’s treating her alright, and cheerful as ever.”

“I wish she could commute,” Linda Granger said.

“I am the exception to the rules,” Harry said, “Though, I’ll tell her that I saw you.”

“Thanks,” Linda Granger said, “It’d be nice to bring her along to Athens—we finally managed to book a week in the schedule, so Saturday, it’s off to the Mediterranean for us. Maybe I’ll try to talk Charles into a little boating, get him to dress as you do.”

“It’s…comfortable,” Harry said.

“I don’t doubt that,” Linda Granger said, “Charles is waiting for me, so have fun.”

Linda Granger left.

“Comfortable?” Gia asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said as he quickly switched sides; his hard cock jutted forward.

The waitress brought over some breadsticks, set them down, along with their sodas. Gia’s right hand held his erection, while her left took a breadstick, shoved half of it into his mouth. She turned his head and hers, put the other half into her mouth. They chewed, their lips held on as they swallowed, munching the breadstick shorter, until their lips touched. Their tongues fought, pushed the rest either way, until Gia surrendered, chewed, and swallowed.

“Should I put this up my—?” Gia started as she reached for another breadstick.

“My stick belongs there,” Harry said.

“Then eat this,” Gia handed him the breadstick.

Harry put it into his mouth, turned to bring his left foot up on the seat, while the right remained on the floor. Gia turned, brought her legs upward.

“Eat it,” Gia said.

Harry worked on it, ate the entire breadstick.

“Better?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Gia replied.

Gia’s hips were pulled, she slid a bit closer. She felt the tip touch before his threaded it. His fingers reached, teased her nipples while the shaft began its familiar rhythm. A familiar heat, pushed in and out, as he drilled. He held it in for the moment, she felt the surge of warmth, and he pulled it out, let her see the dew that clung to his tip, the evidence of what he had just done.

“Bit more,” Gia said.

“Sorry about that,” Harry said as the waitress brought over the plates with noodles on them.

Harry turned, sat. Gia sat upwards.

“We’ll feed you,” Gia said, wrapping noodles around her fork. She brought them to Harry’s mouth.

“Heh…heh…” Harry said.

Harry brought his left hand down, teased her clitoris.

“Not that easy,” Gia said, “So, tell me about these dragons.”

“Dragon _eggs_ ,” Harry said.

* * *

“Come on,” Ash said, as he carried the sleeping bags, their feet trudged through the snow on the steps.

“You think this is better?” Gale asked, as he carried pillows, “What made you think of asking the House Elfs?”

“A friend suggested it once,” Ash said as he came to a halt in front of the classroom door, the one with steam coming out of it.

“Oh, this one!” Gale said.

“Yeah, either here or…I nearly froze to death in my bed!” Ash said as he pulled the door open.

Gale came in while Ash stripped.

“You like doing that,” Gale said.

“I sleep naked!” Ash said. He didn’t used to, but after seeing Harry, and getting used to it, Ash had tried pajamas only to find that he’d strip in his sleep anyways.

Gale glanced.

“What the—?” Gale pointed.

Ash turned, saw the two starkers on the double wide sleeping bag. Hermione on her hands and knees, while Ron was behind her, his hard cock drilling into her.

“They’re fine,” Ash said.

“He’s…we’ve got to leave,” Gale said.

“They’re having sex,” Ash said.

“Not that!” Gale stammered.

“They’re alright,” Ash said.

“You know we were trying—” Ron started.

“He’s just a bit skeptical of you two,” Ash said.

“We know _why_ ,” Ron said.

“Gale, they’re trying to bang,” Ash said to Gale, “It’s the safest room in the castle. I’ll prove it. You said you wanted to see me wank, and I’ll only wank where it’s safe, so watch.”

Ash took a sleeping bag, rolled it down next to the other, and laid down, next to Hermione.

“Keep going,” Ash said.

“He’s as bad as Harry,” Ron said to Hermione, “I’ll…get back to work.”

Ash glanced down the front of Hermione, the small tits hanging down, Ron’s loose balls shaking between her legs. Ash teased his foreskin, stiffened it before Gale’s eyes. Ash’s left hand worked his own shaft, massaged, teased, while the right tickled his balls.

“Why are you here?” Hermione whispered to Ash.

“Why are you?” Ash asked.

“It’s warm,” Hermione said.

“Ditto,” Ash said.

Ash’s eyes flickered up to Ron’s chest, the stomach that moved, the hips that went with it, the bollocks swung as Ash knew Ron was thrusting. Eyes of Gale upon it, Ash’s hard cock soaked it in, and Ash felt the stimulation, heard Hermione’s heavy breathing betraying her orgasms. Ron pulled out, sat with a cock still seeping out semen, while Hermione sat next to him. All three pairs of eyes watched Ash’s curled fingers slip the skin on the shaft, as Ash tossed for them all. Ron glanced at Gale.

“Rumor is he’s the first First year that can,” Gale said, “You know…”

Ash felt it, the desire for his cock to demonstrate, to satisfy the curiosity, as the pressure built and built, before it released. A shot upward, and Ash ejaculated, one white puddle got onto his skin above the penis, before the rest of it flowed down the top side of the shaft to join in the puddle.

“Satisfied?” Ash said, “They’re quite safe to be around. Besides, they just banged, they’re not doing anything else except go to sleep where it’s not cold and miserable.”

“Guess so,” Gale said, “Just for tonight.”

“And you’ll roast if you wear anything,” Ash said to Gale, before he put the pillow beneath his head.

Ron laid on top of the double wide, next to Ash.

“Thank you for that vote of confidence,” Ron said.

“You just banged, so you’re obviously content,” Ash said, “I got Gale, for one night, try to convince him again, tomorrow.”

It wasn’t Harry, but Ash felt secure, with Gale to the other side, as they fell to sleep.

* * *

Tuesday morning, Gale cracked the door first with Ash next to him, the snow had vanished.

“Good,” Ron said, peaking over their shoulders.

“I’m not like you, I need to dress,” Gale said.

“It’s not like I run around starkers,” Ash replied.

“They don’t mind,” Gale said, glancing at Ron with his red pubic hair on display.

“You’ll get here soon enough,” Ron said, “In the meanwhile, time to get moving.”

“And your dick will do what mine can do,” Ash said to Gale.

Ash walked back over to his clothes pile, put them on. Ron simply grabbed his Firebolt.

“If you don’t mind, I’d rather walk,” Hermione said.

“Your clothes are upstairs,” Ron said.

“While I know the password,” Ash said, “I’d be jinxed if I even let you in.”

“Come on,” Ron said.

Hermione got onto the back, dug her fingers in and held on. Ash held the door open, and Ron flew out; they took the door at the end of the corridor, and Ron flew outside into the darkness. It wasn’t too cold as he flew upward, caught a few of the rays of the morning sunrise, before he came to the usual window on Gryffindor Tower. Hermione ducked her head, with Ron, as they entered.

“Good morning,” Harry said.

“Notice the snow’s gone?” Ron asked, as he sat at the table.

“Suppose people are relieved,” Harry said, as he stood there, arms crossed with his hands under his armpits. He leaned back against the post of his four poster bed, crossed his legs, accented by his dark pubic hair and his soft dick.

Owls came in, delivered letters to Hermione while Hermione took in The Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly .

“Your Mum says Hi,” Harry said.

“You went over to—?” Hermione started asked.

“Ran into her at the restaurant,” Harry said before he explained the conversation.

“You lied?” Hermione asked.

“Like I was going to spill about all the crap flying,” Harry said, “Thought I’d keep it simple.”

“Thanks for telling me,” Hermione said.

“Blimey!” Ron exclaimed, “Dragon Shit!”

“Oh, my,” Hermione said as she read the The Daily Prophet .

Tuesday, 15 October, 1996

The Daily Prophet

Fallerschain Combats Insurance Fraud

In the spirit of Fallerschain’s bid to root out corruption, investigations have led to Arnold Weasley. Weasley, a disgraced ex–employee of the Ministry who has committed an egregious case of Insurance Fraud. Weasley recently filed an insurance claim for the collapse of his residence when it was clear to have been of shoddy construction and poorly maintained, waiting to fall down. In connection to this, Fallerschain fired his Executive Assistant Peter Weasley as an accomplice to the crime.

“Lemme quote Dad,” Ron said, as he read his letter, aloud.

Ron

The insurance claim on the burrow was rejected and referred to the Minister of Magic himself; unusual in that this is normally the affairs of the goblins. I was personally interviewed, however the Minister did not believe my testimony. He’s on a crusade to eradicate corruption, this claim is purportedly a prime example of it—he’s trying to set an example for his zero tolerance policy. I do not know what could have been wrong; the burrow was clearly destroyed, sure, not a palace, but that was reflected in the claim.

The Minister overreacted, he fired Percy on the spot; Percy had no opportunity to defend himself as he was given a Silencing charm. I’m going to see if I can calm Percy.

Dad 

“Bollocks!” Harry exclaimed.

“At least Fred and George are better on it,” Ron said, “Listen to this.”

Ron

Hear about Percy getting fired? Or the insurance claim? Read the Daily Prophet.

Percy tried to avoid Dad; but Dad is Dad. They passed in Diagon Alley, Fred foolishly wagered on Percy. An argument ensued with cursing, quite a scene. Took three members of the Magical Law Enforcement Service and Amelia Bones herself to restore order.

Maybe George or maybe Fred or maybe both

P.S. A curse is enclosed that you’ll appreciate.

Ron’s eyes went over to Hermione, trained on her bare breasts, and he drooled.

“Hey!” Hermione snapped.

Harry pointed at the remaining unopened letter, an entire roll of parchment. Ron’s eyes nearly glazed over as he read it to himself.

“In short,” Ron said, “Dad’s a screw up and failure, I should dump you as a friend and distance myself as much as I can, and Percy seems to be forgiving the Minister for firing him. Of more interest is that the Minister is going to officially proclaim You–Know–Who as dead—”

“Voldemort isn’t dead,” Harry said.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Ron said, “Anyways, they’re going to cite the lack of activities as evidence—” Ron unfurled the parchment “—wasted a bunch of parchment—”

“Interesting that they seem to be sweeping this under the carpet—” Hermione said.

“He’s a politician,” Ron said, “Declaring You–Know–Who dead does appease people. Kinda like saying _Mission Accomplished_ even though it isn’t.”

* * *

Ring!

It was the afternoon, their Care of Magical Creatures was officially over, however, nobody had left the classroom, as cracks were already forming on some of the eggs.

“I’ll be a moment.” Hagrid left the room.

“Heard Elder Weaselbee is claiming _accident_ ,” Malfoy sneered, “Ronasty’s sneezing in a cold, blustery, excuse for a pigsty—”

As the snickering from the other students reverberated through the room, Ron lunged for Malfoy. Harry restrained and held Ron firm.

“Ain’t worth it,” Harry whispered.

“Or—” Malfoy said, “I suppose it might have been Potter and Weaselbee on a rickety trough—”

“Belt it!” Harry pushed Ron aside, stood toe to toe with Malfoy, his hand gripping the hilt of his wand.

“Do not order me about!” Malfoy spat on Harry’s feet.

“Do not insult me,” Harry warned, his green eyes were holding steady into Malfoy’s gray eyes.

Neither watched their eggs, as Malfoy’s had finished hatching, and the dragonling curious about its surroundings; it found Malfoy’s right hand, and bit.

“Ow! Ow!” Malfoy exclaimed. Malfoy’s left hand quickly wrapped his right as he turned away from Harry. Malfoy’s foot positioned itself, and he kicked at the dragon.

“Best see Pomfrey—” Harry said.

“Injuries in this oaf’s class—” Malfoy sneered.

“Quit then,” Harry said, “Stop whining—unless you don’t have the guts—”

“Never, ever, dictate terms to me Potter.” Malfoy spat, again, at Harry’s feet.

“Belt it or bug off!” Harry said, wand aimed, “If you’ll excuse me, I have an egg to tend to.”

Harry stepped back, turned around, watched the cracks starting on his egg. Malfoy scampered out, along with most of the other students, which left Harry with Ron and Hermione. Harry pulled off his shirt. Ron took the hint, pulled his off.

“I’d love to stay and watch,” Hermione said as she tried to ventilate her sweat soaked shirt, “I’d rather get some other essays—”

“They’re about to hatch,” Harry said, as he ignored the sweat dripping from his bangs.

“I can’t focus here,” Hermione said, her eyes glanced at both of their bare chests, “I’ll be in the library.”

“Stay safe,” Harry said.

“You know me,” Hermione said, “Later.”

Hermione grabbed her bookbag, left. Cracks continued until an appendage pushed out a bit of the shell.

“A leg—” Harry pointed at the eggs. “Practice with them.’

“W–What—?!” Ron stammered.

“In lieu of brooms—”

“Hagrid Jr—” Ron shook his head, his eyes focused on Harry’s serious face “—you’d toast the opponents.”

The common welsh green dragon, one leg at a time, crept out of the egg. With a push, the small, brown with green spotted dragon emerged. Harry scratched under the ears with his gloved hand, the dragon leaned into the scratching.

“Hello Maverick.”

“Maverick?!” Ron stammered, “You’re naming—”

“Everybody’s got to have a name,” Harry said, “Maybe Maverick wants to see Noigate—”

“Blimey!” Ron looked at Harry in disbelief.

Harry scratched Maverick, cuddled him a bit; he grabbed a lamb chop and fed it to Maverick along with some hot chili peppers.

“You seem harmless,” Harry said to Maverick, “Maybe get you a bed in the dormitory.”

“Um Harry,” Ron said, “You’re going off the deep end—”

Harry shrugged his shoulders, looked into those wide eyes of Maverick, eyes of admiration to Harry.

“Compared to Voldemort,” Harry said, “Maverick’s friendly.”

Harry scratched some more, tickled under Maverick’s chin.

“Rest are hatching,” Ron said, “Maybe we should, like, leave this to Hagrid.”

“What?!” Harry said, “Maverick’d get lonely without me.”

“Harry,” Ron muttered.

Harry gave Maverick a few more scratches and fed another lamb chop.

“See you tomorrow Maverick,” Harry said, “I’ve got a date.”

Harry jumped from the snicker behind him. Albus Dumbledore stood there.

“I apologize if I startled you,” Professor Dumbledore while his eyes studied the dragons, “It is uncommon for a wizard to watch a dragon hatch.”

“It is cool,” Harry said.

“Hagrid has a unique appreciation for creatures,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I’m glad you see it too.”

“Yeah,” Harry replied, “Time to go.”

Harry grabbed his shirt before he took out his Portkey, activated it. He felt the tug on his bookbag, thought nothing of it as the Portkey pulled him away from Hogwarts.

* * *

Gia’s feet were in the pool as she sat on the edge. Her eyes were on the slit of the circumcised dick, the off–white semen surged out to drop into the chlorinated water.

“What’d you think?” Nate asked as he blushed.

“She’s already taken,” Tracey said, standing nearby.

“Oh,” Nate said as he took his hand off his hard cock, the one that was facing Gia from several feet away. His testicles floated in the water.

“It’s good,” Gia said. She surveyed him, standing there, as he regained his balance on his tippy toes.

“Ta,” Nate said.

Nate stood there for another minute, as Gia looked him over, from the blond pubic hair, up the chest.

“You just come here to tease!” Tracey said to Gia. Tracey was in her red team swimsuit, whereas both Nate and Gia were starkers.

“I don’t mind,” Nate said, his eyes studied Gia’s shaved vulva.

“You’re going to get the team pregnant,” Tracey snapped at Gia.

“It’s _my_ seed,” Nate said.

“Wouldn’t it’d be better to actually bang if you wanted to get every girl on the team pregnant?” Tracey asked Nate.

“Volunteering?” Nate asked.

Nate quickly responded to Tracey’s glare by starting into another lap.

“Harry runs, I swim,” Gia said to Tracey, “It’d be nice to be _on_ the team, though.”

“Please don’t try to give the entire team the boot,” Tracey said, “Speaking of pregnancy, here _he_ comes.”

Harry walked into the pool, his soft todger swung freely beneath the jet black pubic hair.

“I’m on the pill,” Gia said to Tracey.

“Nothing’s perfect,” Tracey said, “You’ll be pregnant by the end of the year.”

“Pregnant?” Harry stammered.

“No,” Gia said as she stood.

“Phew,” Harry muttered.

Tracey laughed as Harry and Gia left the pool that late afternoon. It was breezy beneath the fair sky.

“What’s wrong with that?” Gia asked.

“We’re too young,” Harry said.

“We bang so often, it’s possible,” Gia said.

“Are you?” Harry asked.

“No,” Gia replied.

“Good,” Harry said, “Like Madam Pomfrey said, it’s impossible when you’re on that potion, because there is no egg.”

They came to the ledge separating the sidewalk from the garden before the church. Gia sat on it, legs spread. Harry stood to the side, watched as she let the pressure go, peed. Gia knew it was inappropriate, to urinate in public, however, she smiled as she witnessed Harry’s todger rapidly stiffen into the hard erection. Harry was her good luck charm, the one whose magic let her be starkers in public, let her tease those she wished to tease.

“Speaking of eggs,” Harry said, “They’re hatching—at school.”

“That soon?” Gia asked.

“Hagrid knows what he’s doing—hold on,” Harry’s head turned.

Gia followed his eyes, to the puff of flame, from the little spotted Common Welsh Green nearby.

“Maverick!” Harry exclaimed as the little short dragonling came up to Harry.

“So, _why_ did you bring him along?” Gia asked.

“I didn’t, he must’ve—that’s why—I felt something in the bookbag,” Harry said, “I didn’t realize—lets get him home.”

Maverick burped, flame torched the shrubbery.

“Burning bush?” Harry said, “Um…can you get some lamb chops, steaks, for him?”

“Won’t the rest of us muggles—?” Gia asked.

“Just call him a majestic bird,” Harry said, “I’ll take him straight home though.”

“Yes,” Gia said.

Harry walked, Maverick waddled. Gia wished she had a camera, to catch his flexing buttocks next to the Common Welsh Green that came up to his knees. Gia hoped Harry could contain it, otherwise, Kurt will be very busy. Gia made her way to the grocer’s, she was in a stone’s throw when the shout came.

“Gia!” Richard exclaimed.

Richard jogged, starkers, his soft todger, and a wallet strapped to his ankle.

“Boys are definitely better this way,” Gia said, her eyes roved fast across him with the circumcised penis beneath the light brown pubic hair, “Oh, shouldn’t have said that.”

They entered the grocer’s; Richard grabbed a trolley.

“I do my morning run this way,” Richard said, “Glad you like it.”

Gia did, though she also liked how she boosted their confidence too. Confident boys were definitely sexy.

“So your Mum sent you?” Gia asked.

“No,” Richard said, “You’ll smell it when we get home.”

Richard made his way for the butcher’s section.

“Smell what?” Gia asked.

Richard tossed a few steaks into the trolley. Gia started tossing in the lamb chops, every single one.

“Hungry?” Richard asked.

“Dunno,” Gia said. She really didn’t know how many lamb chops a dragon needed.

Richard grabbed a bag of charcoal.

“When I mean stink, I meant it,” Richard said, “Dad was about to scold Ant when he got a call about a couple of brush fires.”

“Where is she now?” Gia asked.

“I’d guess Stephan’s,” Richard said, as he grabbed some potato salad, chips, “Even she couldn’t put up with it.”

They came to the checker, who gave them a look.

“Mind if we borrow the trolley?” Richard said, “I’ll have it back tonight—tomorrow morning at the latest.”

The checker nodded.

“Dress party,” Gia said.

The checker raised her eyebrow. Richard paid, and pushed the trolley. Evening had taken root, things were starting to darken.

“I figured you liked us starkers,” Richard said.

“It is better this way,” Gia said, “You, him, look, act…you’re not hiding, and that’s good.”

“It is liberating,” Richard said, “So did Nate really—?”

“He wanked,” Gia said, “Cute. Dirty but cute.”

Richard brought the trolley along the path, and they cut into the open backyard of 26 Oak. Harry was already sitting on the grass next to the patio. Maverick burped and sent up a puff of flame.

“What the—?” Richard stammered.

“Got the lamb?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Gia said as she tossed one at Harry.

Harry tore open the packaging, handed it to Maverick who promptly ate it.

“What is that?” Richard asked.

“It reeks inside,” Harry said, “Even Maverick didn’t like it.”

Maverick burped, flame shot out, lit a bit of spare firewood on fire.

“That’s a dragon?” Richard asked.

“His name’s _Maverick_ ,” Harry said.

“Another pet?” Richard said.

“It was an accident,” Harry said, “So he’s going back to school in the morning.”

“Here,” Gia said, as she took the steaks, put them on the grill.

“Come on,” Harry said to Maverick, right before he picked up the dragon with his left arm. Harry carried him over, tickled with the right. Maverick coughed, flame came out and went over the steaks on the grill. A fast sizzle, the steaks cooked in seconds, and Harry handed another lamb chop to Maverick.

“Well done,” Richard said, “Don’t tell Mum and Dad, I don’t think they’d agree to a dragon.”

Gia’s eyes caught it, glanced over, watched Richard’s soft todger elongate, stiffen, until his glans flared and the slit was bared. Gia held it.

“Hi,” Richard said to her. His eyes studied her grin.

“I feel it, the notice that says that it’s the property of Jen,” Gia said as she let go.

“Ta,” Richard said.

“I’m not tattooing _anything_ to mine,” Harry said.

“Plates?” Gia asked Richard.

“Yeah,” Richard said as he went into the house, “Gross.”

“Your favorite game?” Harry asked Gia.

“I…I…” Gia stuttered.

“I don’t _own_ you,” Harry said, as he stood, “Flirt as you want.” He stepped closer. “I trust that after you’re done playing, you’ll want to return to me, out of love, nothing more, nothing less. Besides, it’s fun watching you tease em.” Harry grinned.

“You’re…you’re generous,” Gia said.

“I do ask for friendship and love,” Harry said, “And tease me too.”

Gia smiled, held his cock. Harry’s todger stiffened in her grip as Richard returned.

Growl

Snuffles came around the corner, his eyes were on the common welsh green.

“Play with Maverick,” Harry said, “Gia and I have more than steak to discuss.”

“In few words,” Richard said, as he put one of the steaks onto a plate, began to cut it up, “Very well done.”

“Don’t forget to eat one yourself,” Gia said to Harry.

“I…” Harry stuttered.

She massaged his loose testicles beneath the hard shaft.

“Alright,” Harry said.

Harry put one of the steaks on the plate, cut it, dipped it into the steak sauce, and gave a bite to Gia. She took a strip, put half of it in Harry’s mouth, other half into hers, and they ate closer, until Harry took the rest and swallowed. Gia cut another strip, fed the start into Harry’s mouth with her right hand while her left teased his testicles. Two lumps in her hand, and Harry worked on the strip of steak, his hard cock touched her.

“Full course,” Richard said.

Gia pulled slightly upward, let Harry’s cock enter between the two folds, the two halves of the doorway, let the hardness slip inward as they got even closer. Gia’s fingers threaded in the last of the charred strips into Harry’s lips.

“Maverick, pay attention,” Harry said.

“Huh?” Gia asked.

“An audience,” Harry said.

“Aw,” Gia replied.

Gia was onboard, of course, she had gotten to enjoy audiences, like Harry did. Harry moved her until she had her butt in the air, she could see Maverick right underneath her, the dragon watched intently as Harry’s hard cock pushed back into her, his balls swung freely. Harry drilled, his pubic hair brushed against her, he went slow until he heard her breathing change, and he sped up. Harry held it, and she felt the surge of liquid warmth, before he pulled it out.

“Figures, you two,” Richard said, “Get a pet dragon and you’re showing off.”

“Dragons don’t understand people nearly as well as they should,” Harry said.

“It’s fun,” Gia said.

Harry grabbed a nearby tennis ball.

“Lets see if we can teach Maverick to play catch,” Harry said, “Snuffles, FETCH!”

Harry threw the tennis ball across the yard. Snuffles went after it, Maverick followed.

“So this dragon?” Richard asked.

“Goes back…later,” Harry replied.

* * *

Ron was starkers as he sorted through the dragonlings in the Dragon Nest at Hogwarts the next morning.

“Twenty nine,” Ron said.

“Thirty eggs,” Hagrid said, confused, “All eggs good.”

“You’re sure?” Ron asked.

“I counted em myself,” Hagrid said, “Thanks Ron—I’ll figure it out.”

Ron could see the mild discomfort that Hagrid had with Ron’s nudity, but still, he grabbed his Firebolt.

“It’s not in your hut, is it?” Ron asked.

“Ron!” Hagrid said, “You know me.”

“We do,” Ron said, giving a grin, “Hope you find it, I’ll ask Harry.”

“Yeh do that,” Hagrid said.

Ron left the classroom, to the back door of the corridor, and mounted his Firebolt. Ron flew in the chilly wind, his testicles contracted, up to the dormitory.

“You just had to,” Hermione said, starkers.

“They’re dragons,” Ron said.

“I’m getting my clothes,” Hermione said as she left the dormitory.

Ron knew she was miffed as she had some of her clothes in his trunk, but dismissed it. Instead, Ron sat down at the table, ate of the sausages and the cauldron cakes coming to it.

Whump! Whump!

Ron understood the thuds came from Harry’s four poster bed”

“Oh, Harry,” Ron said, “Hagrid’s short a dragon and he assured me it isn’t in his hut.”

Harry, starkers, snickered as he climbed out of his four poster, behind him came Maverick hopping down.

“Wha—” Ron stammered.

“Dunno how,” Harry said, “He somehow followed me last night.”

“Hagrid—you know the Polyjuice Potion is—” Ron said.

“I’m—” Harry started.

“Ron—Harry!” Hermione, dressed, entered the dormitory, her eyes were fixed upon the dragon.

“Mental.” Ron trained his eyes at Hermione, and nodded his head toward Harry. “Bloke swore dragon just showed up at home—”

“Dragons in a muggle house?” Hermione said, “Do you know how dangerous—”

“Isn’t Maverick adorable?” Harry gave Maverick a hug.

“Maverick?!” Hermione stammered.

“Who is hungry.” Harry escorted Maverick out of the dormitory.

Hermione glared at Ron.

“What did I do?” Ron snapped.

SLAP!

“You ought to know better!” Hermione left the dormitory.

Ron rubbed his reddened cheek as he grabbed his Firebolt and left. Ron caught up with Harry as made it to the ground floor, came in together into the Dragon Nest. Hagrid spied Harry, beamed.

“Maverick, eh?” Hagrid asked.

“He’s got to have a name,” Harry said.

Maverick joined in with the rest of the dragonlings trying to set fire to the stonework.

“Couldn’t help but notice your attire,” Hagrid said.

“Dragons tend to trust the naked Wizard the best,” Harry said.

Hagrid beamed as Ron and Harry left. They went to the end of the corridor.

“That was brilliant,” Ron said as he mounted his Firebolt.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Harry said as he got on behind Ron, “It’s what we saw in Romania, right?”

“Yep,” Ron said.

Ron took off, made for their dormitory.


	40. Mud

Harry ran fast out of Transfiguration Wednesday afternoon. Ron and Hermione were a bit slower.

“Interesting blur,” Hermione said.

“Harry’s got a busy schedule,” Ron said.

Ron followed Hermione into the third floor girls’ lavatory.

“What are you doing?” Hermione demanded.

“Protection.” Ron folded his arms and grinned

“I bet.” Hermione went for a stall. “Shove off!”

Ron, though, entered the stall, closed the door. He leaned back against the door, took Hermione’s glare.

“I’m serious,” Ron said. He knew what he’s been hearing, his brain could work it out, she needed an extra wand nearby.

The bathroom door creaked open, two pairs of footsteps came in talking. Hermione lowered her knickers while Ron crowded behind her; he didn’t want his shoes to be obvious.

“I heard Potter slept with McGonagall last night!” Padma Patil told her sister.

“Seamus said Potter’s bed is always empty,” Parvati Patil said, “Must be true, stiffening up his Potions marks.”

Ron stuffed his sleeve into his mouth to suppress his gagging. Parvati and Padma Patil entered separate stalls as the bathroom door opened.

“Heard he was caught in the act with Flitwick,” Padma Patil said.

“Malcolm Baddock walked in on them,” Pansy Parkinson said as she entering her own stall.

“How does he keep that schedule straight?” Padma said, “Likely taking Owl orders or something—”

“Ask Hagrid—” Parvati said.

“That oaf?!” Parkinson exclaimed.

“Lunchtime special,” Parvati said.

“Disgusting but Hagrid’s not the oaf,” Padma Patil said, “Madam Pomfrey’s been bugging Potter for more _appointments_ —”

Flush!

Hermione flushed her toilet, which silenced the others. Ron and Hermione left the lavatory.

“Those were cruel and false,” Ron said.

“It’s the rumor mill,” Hermione said.

Ron took out his Firebolt, she mounted, and he took off. Ron flew them into the window of the sixth years’ boys’ dormitory. Ron stripped nearly as fast as he put the Firebolt away.

“Hmph!” Hermione exclaimed.

“What?” Ron said, “Being starkers with you makes the day go much, much, much better.”

Ron pulled a knot out of his red pubic hair, grabbed his bookbag, and sat down at the table. He got out his books and quill, began to work on an essay.

* * *

Ash, Gale, and Buck entered the Great Hall that evening. Ash and Buck with their Gryffindor ties tucked underneath the notch of their sweater vest, Gale had his Hufflepuff tie. Gale sat next to Ash and Buck at the Gryffindor Table.

“I tried to whittle one, a six inch,” Buck said, “But Professor Flitwick caught it.”

“You know you’re not supposed to have knives,” Gale said.

“Yet we have _wands_?” Buck said.

Ash had heard this debate before, and he understood Buck’s point, wands were more dangerous, yet they each had one, whereas a knife was on the prohibited list.

“Hey Hufflepuff!” Thomas scolded, “Over there!” He pointed at Gale.

“Sorry,” Buck said.

“Wish I had my bow now,” Gale whispered to Buck before he moved over to Hufflepuff.

Ash scooped out some macaroni and cheese, dumped it onto his plate, and ate.

“I’ve got a twelve inch blade at home,” Buck said to Ash.

Ash nodded.

“Hey,” Finnigan said as he sat down across from Buck, glanced at the blond haired Buck with chocolate brown eyes, “Teachers won’t let you have that—though I admit it might come in handy.”

“Whatever,” Buck said.

Ash sensed the irritation in Buck’s voice.

“Well, likely not needed tonight,” Finnigan said, “Heard Potter’s buried himself into Hagrid tonight.”

“Why?” Buck asked.

“Who knows?” Finnigan said, “They always seem to have a thing, guess this explains it. Take care.”

Finnigan got up, returned to the sixth years portion of the table.

“You believe that?” Buck asked.

Ash shook his head. Ash kept eating, the rumor kept going around the Great Hall, along with another concerning Colin and Ginny having been caught banging. Ash finished his dinner, left, and was curious. Ash walked down the steps, to the front door, and went outside. It was mostly cloudy, with a light breeze in the cool air; the sky was dimming, well into evening.

“Ash!” Gale said.

Ash turned, saw Gale and Buck behind him, with their blond hair.

“You don’t believe it, do you?” Buck asked.

“I’m asking Hagrid,” Ash said.

Ash went down the rest of the steps, walked across the grass. Gale and Buck follow.

“You’re just going to ask that big oaf whether he’s shagging a student?” Gale asked.

“‘Hello Hagrid, are you banging Potter?’” Buck mocked.

“Good, you can do the talking,” Ash said.

They came to Hagrid’s Hut, where there were voices.

“I ask you again,” Professor Dumbledore asked, “Have you made a decision?”

“They’re just babies,” Hagrid replied.

“Even if we were to entertain the notion of them cutting down the heating costs,” Professor Dumbledore said, “We can’t keep the dragons at Hogwarts. I know the people at the Welsh and the Romania colonies, that was the stipulation for the eggs, after all.”

“I just see ‘em—” Hagrid started.

“Come,” Buck seethed, pulled Ash away from Hagrid’s Hut.

“Buck!” Gale snapped.

“We didn’t need to check!” Buck said, “Unless you suggest we search with the _Headmaster_ there!”

“They just assume!” Ash said as they came to the shore of the lake, “I wanted to find out for myself!”

“You _worship_ Harry Potter!” Buck said, “I’ve heard you mutter in your sleep, so I know you do!”

“I do not!” Ash snapped.

Buck shoved Ash, and Ash toppled into the water. While the sun was in the process of setting, some light could be had, so he saw the water approach him as he fell.

SPLASH!

Cold water rapidly seeped into every fiber, Ash shivered before he stood up.

SPLAT!

A blob of mud hit across Buck’s face, Gale’s hand was muddy. Ash grabbed Buck’s arm, pulled, and Buck tried to resist, so both went into the cold water.

“Break it up!” Gale said, as he tried to grab both collars.

Instead, hands pulled Gale down, laughter started to sound. Buck head locked Ash, dumped mud down Ash’s shirt. Gale armstronged the grip off Ash. Buck blindly reached backward, the fingers snagged Gale’s belt, pulled, the trousers began to slide. Ash regained his balance, on his hands and knees, held Buck into the mud, dripped some over the blond hair. Gale threw himself across both, the white briefs with their bulge landed on Ash’s back.

“Bad idea,” Gale said.

Buck, though, wrestled Gale back into the water, the brown smeared across the white cloth, while Ash pulled off the Hufflepuff tie.

“Good idea,” Ash said as he belted out a laugh.

“Really?” Gale asked as he grabbed Ash’s belt.

Buck pushed Ash’s trousers down; Ash’s lack of underwear was apparent as the intact penis became visible. Gale grabbed some mud, smeared it across Ash’s rapidly retreating scrotum.

“Oh?” Ash asked, quickly pulled Buck’s down, the fingers having snatched both the trousers and underwear.

Buck tackled Ash back into the mud, eyes glared as Ash’s clothes vanished.

“Sorry,” Buck said.

Ash, though, with Gale, pushed Buck backward, stumbled as Buck’s penis stiffened into a hard erection. While Ash noted it, he otherwise ignored, it, pulled Buck back down into the mucky water.

“Can you at least remove my shirt so it’s not ruined?” Buck asked.

“Sure,” Gale said, quickly pulled the sweater, the shirt off Buck.

Ash waited, eyes on Gale standing there, the intact penis dangled between the legs, as Gale pulled his shirt off. Their shoes already gone, they were starkers in the nighttime dark; dim light from the castle kept them from being blind.

SPLAT!

Mud flew from Buck to Gale. Buck moved to the side as Gale tackled; Buck sat on Gale’s back.

Pfffpt!

“Gross,” Gale said.

Ash gave a near leap, pushed Buck off, into the mud, put his belly onto Buck’s back, while Buck remained on his hands and knees. Gale grabbed a handful of mud, smeared it onto Buck’s buttocks, caked it into the crack. Buck laughed.

“Your turn,” Gale said to Ash.

Gale wrenched on Ash, pulled Ash onto his back, in the mud. Ash’s black hair sank inward, while Gale pinned Ash’s hands, straddled.

“You’ve got a stiffy,” Buck said to Gale.

“Get him,” Gale replied.

Buck smeared mud across every scrap of Ash’s skin. As Buck’s hand crossed Ash’s balls, the penis responded, and Ash peed.

“Gross!” Buck stammered.

Gale laughed, Buck joined in, while Ash kept pissing.

“That’s your most offensive weapon,” Gale remarked.

Buck and Gale turned over, sat to either side of Ash, butts still in the mud. They all laughed.

“Not quite,” Ash remarked, as a thought came to him.

Ash sat up, partially stood, bent over, with his butt in the air between Buck and Gale. It took Ash just a moment of thought, appreciated how Andy had gotten him okay with friends, which Buck and Gale qualified. Ash wrenched on his muscles, clenched, and relaxed, as his sphincter released.

Pfffpt!

Ash felt the sludge pass, quite aware that both Gale and Buck were watching, as he defecated. Chunk by chunk came out, dropped into the mud.

“Check and mate,” Gale said.

“Yeah, definitely gross,” Buck said.

Pfffpt!

“Thank you, that was genuine Ash,” Ash said as he squeezed out the last chunk, “Thank you for tuning in to Ash TV.”

Ash relaxed, the sphincter clammed back up.

“You’d lose your license for _that_ ,” Buck remarked.

“Butt he likes it,” Gale remarked as Ash’s todger began to stiffen, “But no balls.”

Ash felt it, his testicles had pulled so far in, it felt flat. Gale and Buck laughed.

“Very funny,” Ash remarked.

“I’m cold too,” Buck said.

Buck stood first. Ash glanced at it, Buck’s penis dangled, but the balls couldn’t be seen in the dim light.

“Get my clothes,” Gale said.

“Where?” Buck asked.

Gale stood fast. Together, their three pairs of feet felt in the muddy water to only feel mud and muck.

“Let’s just go in,” Ash remarked.

“We’re naked,” Gale said.

“I can’t see well enough to see _any_ clothes,” Ash said, “Check tomorrow.”

“You’re lucky Gale,” Buck said as they started for the castle, “Hufflepuff’s like, ground floor, right? We have to go all the way to the top.”

“Like Hufflepuff’s house is empty—not!” Gale said.

They felt the chill of the wind across their skin as they made for the castle. Ash smiled, laughed.

“You enjoyed that back there, right?” Buck asked.

“It was…fun,” Ash said.

Ash was still shy, still hesitant, but also glad he had taken Harry’s advice. Buck and Gale were good friends, he had no qualms being naked with them, a good sign, an adage he had developed watching Harry. With true friends, it simply didn’t matter to be starkers or not, rather, just being with them, being happy with them, that’s what mattered. They had played, wrestled, and came out alright, Ash was definitely happy when they entered the castle, went down to the corridor with the barrels near the kitchens.

“I’ll grab a couple of cloaks for you,” Gale said, “Come.”

They stood there as their eyes adjusted, mud streaked across all of their skin. Ash’s dick was still hard as their balls started to show themselves, descend in the warmer air.

“I’ll just hoof it,” Ash said, “Not the first time.”

“Alright,” Gale said, “Good night, see you in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Ash said.

“I’ll borrow your shower,” Buck said as he followed Gale.

Ash, though, turned around, walked, climbed stairs.

Ash realized how much Harry had influenced him, to the point that walking through Hogwarts, starkers, didn’t intimidate him; however, somebody asking him a question could.

Ash started up the spiral stairs that went from the ground up to the fifth floor. He heard the fast footsteps before he felt the hands that spun him around. Ash recognized the jet black hair, the lightning bolt scar, the bottle green eyes that trained themselves onto his. Sweats shrouded this other boy.

“Well, well,” this boy said, eyes surveyed Ash, steadied themselves onto Ash’s hard erection that jutted outward, “Gift is unwrapped and ready.”

Ash started to struggle against the grip, the hands held tighter as another, a boy with red hair came by. Ash recognized the resemblance, to Ron and Harry. This Harry turned Ash around, while this Ron steadfastly held Ash still, countered as Ash struggled. Instead, Ash felt the fingers explore the butt crack, found the anus.

“Dirty, good,” this Harry said.

Ash felt the softness of the glans push fast as the shaft slipped, threaded itself into the anus.

“Manners,” this Ron said.

Ash felt the hand reach around, grabbed Ash’s hard erection, felt it up, the foreskin, began to stroke as the shaft in the anus moved inside Ash. Fast, the hardness inside Ash drilled with the urgency of panning for gold, as both pairs of loose testicles thrashed between Ash’s thighs, the pubic hair against the buttocks, this hard cock meant business, and the hand stroked with all the vigor it could. Ash felt the spasms mount.

“Hey, he’s enjoying this,” this Ron said as Ash’s cock began to pulse.

The hand on the cock, trapped Ash’s orgasm, smeared it across the shaft.

“Not so little after all,” this Harry said.

Ash felt the hard cock slid out of his anus, saw it peak beneath his own genitals, the other cock snuggled its glans near Ash’s shaft. Ash saw the surge, the off white soak upward as the hand smothered Ash’s shaft in the fresh coat.

“STOP!” came the weak shout.

“Go,” this Ron said.

“FREEZE!”

Hands released Ash, who could turn around in time to witness this Harry restoring his sweats.

“STOP!” came the shout of Gale, Buck beside him.

However, this Harry and this Ron shoved both of them aside as they fled. Gale and Buck ran up to Ash. Both Gale and Buck were dressed with Hufflepuff black cloaks around them.

“Are you alright?” Gale asked as the hands held Ash’s shoulders.

“Yeah,” Ash said, his softening dick glistened with the semen.

“Let’s get you to Madam Pomfrey—” Gale offered.

“No,” Ash said.

“Dude, you were _raped_ ,” Buck said.

“I know,” Ash said.

“At least report Potter—” Gale started.

“No,” Ash said, “I’m—I”ve got something to check.”

“Sorry we weren’t fast enough,” Buck said, “We saw them following—”

“Thanks,” Ash said, “Later.”

Ash felt his sore arse as he went up the stairs, Gale and Buck followed.

“Password?” the Fat Lady asked.

“Sex for marks,” Ash replied.

The painting opened. Ash entered the common room, empty as it was already past curfew, he went across. Each step on the stairs, he felt the lingering soreness and entered his dormitory. He saw it, on his bed, his nine inch Walnut wand.

“Well, yours got found,” Buck said.

“We’ll find ours in the morning,” Gale said.

Ash, though, walked into the bathroom, into the single shower stall. Dirt on his skin turned to mud as it loosened. Gale and Buck removed the cloaks, joined in the shower.

“Good idea,” Buck said, crowding in.

Ash didn’t feel like talking. It was fast, in and out, over with that Harry, a Harry that was startled at Ash’s messy orgasm, a Harry that didn’t realize that Ash could do that. Buck and Gale both soaped Ash up, scrubbed his skin, removed the stains, the evidence, before rinsing and drying him as Ash stepped out. Ash came up with a plan.

“Use my bed,” Ash said to Gale.

“What?” Gale asked.

“See you in the morning,” Ash said.

Ash went over, dropped the towel, and grabbed his wand. He left the first years’ boys’ dormitory, went up the stairs to the sixth, and entered. On the usual bed was Ron, with Hermione snuggled in with him, the only one of the five beds in use. Ash, though, wasn’t completely satisfied, he walked over to Ron’s trunk, and opened it. Ash spotted the Hogwarts Pin, held it, and activated it.

“What?” muttered Gia as Ash landed in her bedroom, in Noigate.

Ash put his wand, Ron’s Portkey, on the shelf, climbed onto the bed, where Gia and Harry were.

“How long has he been asleep?” Ash asked.

“An hour or two,” Gia said.

“Mind?” Ash asked.

Ash didn’t wait for a response, climbed onto the bed, slipped beneath the covers between Gia and Harry. Ash reached over, felt Harry’s scrotum, the soft, the pliable skin, ones that had been drained that evening, but not immediately recent.

“What’s going on?” Gia asked.

Ash turned around, his blue eyes focused on hers.

“I…I…” Ash said, “Few minutes ago, maybe ten, somebody looking like Harry raped me.”

“What?” Gia asked.

“It wasn’t Harry, wasn’t right,” Ash said, “I had to see him, the real Harry, here.”

“Oh,” Gia said.

She held Ash tight, he felt her breasts push into him. Harry turned around.

“Sorry,” Harry whispered.

Ash brought Harry’s hand to the balls, Harry held Ash’s testicles. Ash felt the touch, knew this to be the real Harry, even though the real Harry also had an erection that pressed into Ash. Ash felt safe with this one, this foreskin that touched between the buttocks, a cock that Ash could trust. Ash felt his apprehensions calm down as Harry returned to sleeping, a slumber that induced Ash to sleep too.

* * *

Ash felt the surge as Gia headed to the bathroom Thursday morning. Warm and quick as Harry, peed for a moment longer, the covers to the side, onto Ash’s hand. Ash rolled out of bed, went over, grabbed his wand and Ron’s Portkey.

“You didn’t report me?” Harry asked, not yet moving from the bed.

“No,” Ash said, “It wasn’t you.”

“Thank you,” Harry said.

“Don’t get me wrong—anybody else would’ve been fooled,” Ash said, “But me—I know what your dick is like in my arse.”

“You begged,” Harry said.

“I know,” Ash said, “You’re welcome.”

Ash activated the Portkey. A moment later, he landed, his collided with Ron’s hard cock and Hermione’s hand.

“Excuse me,” Ron snapped.

“I had to see Harry,” Ash said, “After…after last night.”

“We heard a rumor,” Hermione said.

“You—” Ash pointed to Ron, “Held me down!”

“Pardon?” Ron stammered.

Ash got out of the bed, tossed the Portkey into the open trunk, and left the dormitory. Ash went down the stairs, entered the first years’ boys’ dormitory. Gale was still beneath the sheets on Ash’s bed. Ash slipped in, next to Gale, felt the warmth.

“Thought you’d finally use it?” Gale asked.

Gale started to move, but stopped as Ash wrapped his arm around Gale’s back, held on, and felt Gale’s naval.

“Thank you,” Ash said to Gale, “Thanks for following me, for stopping them.”

“Bust Potter,” Gale said.

“It’s not Harry,” Ash said, “It wasn’t right, it wasn’t him.”

“Yes it was,” Gale said.

“I know it wasn’t…” Ash drifted off. Ash figured it was probably better to not go into details.

“If you change your mind, need a witness,” Gale said, “I’ll vouch for it.”

“I know,” Ash said.

Gale wrenched, got out of the bed, stood. Ash gazed at Gale’s naked figure, the hairless genitals, including the intact penis, dangling there.

“I don’t get how you tolerate this,” Gale said.

Ash got out, stood in front of Gale.

“I’m not ashamed,” Ash said, “Try this.” Ash took Gale’s hands, drew them to Ash’s genitals, “Feel it up. Go ahead, I won’t bite.”

Gale grimaced for a moment, as the fingers felt Ash’s foreskin, his penis, his balls.

“And so I can trust you,” Ash said as his penis stiffened into the erection that rested in the palm of Gale’s hand, “Thank you.”

“Funny,” Gale said.

“What I see here is a friend standing before me,” Ash said, “Clothes or no clothes, doesn’t matter, you’re still a friend, so yeah, I’ll watch your dick, watch out for it, or even your butt, even if you have to take a dump.”

Gale grinned.

“Not saying it won’t be gross,” Ash said.

Gale laughed.

“Seriously, you’ll need help,” Gale said, followed Ash into the shower, “Had a cousin last year, she needed a bunch of therapy after she was raped, still not the same.”

“Then be my friend,” Ash said.

Gale blushed as his todger stiffened, became the second erection.

“Mind?” Ash asked.

Gale nodded as Ash brought the hard erections next to each other, touched their sides. Gale reached down, held both of them together. Ash’s hand joined, held next to Gale, both hard cocks together.

“Friends forever?” Ash asked.

“Yeah,” Gale said.

Gale quickly stroked. Gale’s dry orgasms started while Ash felt the surges. Ash’s sticky hot lava poured out, onto Gale’s skin.

“You’ll get there,” Ash said, “Shower before somebody walks in.”

“We showered last night,” Gale said.

“Yeah, but I needed it,” Ash said. He didn’t want to mention having slept with Harry.

They washed, dried, and returned.

“I’m starkers,” Gale said, grabbing the cloak.

“Um…borrow,” Ash said as he opened his trunk. Ash handed over underwear, and a change.

“Ta,” Gale said as he dressed.

Together, they left the dormitory, walked across the common room, and left. Down the stairs, they came to the second floor.

“Mr. Hurley,” Professor McGonagall said, “Mr. Langsett, I believe you have a side to this tale too. Please follow.”

Gale swallowed, followed with Ash, followed the Professor up the ascending stairs, and entered the Headmaster’s office.

“I understand an incident occurred last night,” Professor Dumbledore said, “You did not come forward yourself.”

“It wasn’t Harry!” Ash said.

“It was too!” Gale said, “Buck and I, we went up the stairs to see Potter fucking Ash in the arse.”

“Is this true?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“It _looked_ like Harry but it wasn’t Harry,” Ash said, “I don’t think it was Ron either, but I confess to being less certain there.”

“But the encounter did occur?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“Yes,” Ash said, “I don’t think it was Harry.”

“Admirable sentiments,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“I _know_ Harry,” Ash said, “It wasn’t him.”

Professor Dumbledore’s twinkling eyes seemed to tease it all to his foremind, all the times Ash had touched, or Harry had touched, all the times Ash and Harry had interacted, starkers and sexually, including the time Ash had asked Harry after breaking up with Andy.

“I take it you won’t press charges?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“Against whom?” Ash said, “It wasn’t Harry.”

“I wish you had come forward immediately,” Professor Dumbledore said, “We could’ve investigated to find the ones truly responsible.”

“You worship Potter!” Gale snapped at Ash.

“I’ve _seen_ the real Harry handling his stiffy!” Ash said, “It wasn’t Harry who raped me.”

“Then somebody else did,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Do you have anything further to add?”

“No,” Ash said.

“No,” Gale said.

“Dismissed,” Professor Dumbledore said.

Ash and Gale left the office.

“You never told me that before,” Gale said.

“I wasn’t planning on advertising it,” Ash replied.

“Sorry,” Gale said, “I didn’t understand.”

“But he’s right,” Ash said, “If it’s not Harry, then it was somebody else.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, honestly, Ash wanted some more face time in the story, I had to appease him.


	41. First Years

Harry flew fast into his dormitory around lunchtime on Thursday, just after Potions. He ignored the letters and package sitting on his trunk. Instead, he quickly stripped, hung his clothes from the corner of his four poster, wand sticking out of the pocket, stood there naked just before Ron and Hermione flew into the dormitory.

“You just like being starkers,” Hermione said.

“Of course,” Harry said, “I’m all for the _**B**_ alls _**A**_ re _**L**_ eft _**L**_ oose _**S**_ plendidly campaign.”

“She’s a fan too,” Ron said as he stripped.

“Why am I complaining?” Hermione asked, her eyes darted between them.

Ron stepped next to Harry, next to the table.

“Check em out, see if you can tell the difference,” Ron said.

Hermione sat, her fingers felt both pairs of testicles, both with hairs on the scrotum. Both Ron and Harry’s cocks began to slither, their erections formed quick.

“Boys!” Hermione said.

“It put a smile onto your face, right?” Ron asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said, now grinning.

“Then it’s worth it,” Ron said.

“Don’t over do it!” Hermione said.

“Is that possible?” Ron asked.

“Dunno,” Harry said.

“Boys!” Hermione exclaimed.

“We’re the very best,” Ron replied.

“Muggles complain about bills in their post,” Harry said as he sorted through the letters on his trunk, “I’m guessing complaint, complaint, complaint.”

“Rotten week?” Ron asked.

“Brilliant!” Harry snapped, “Who the fuck suggested me shagging Snape?”

“That not even funny,” Ron said, “Now the one with Sprout…” Ron snickered.

“Devil’s Snare shouldn’t even factor in!” Harry stammered.

“Eat!” Hermione said to Harry.

“Hmph!” Harry exclaimed.

“A little syrup on you—” Ron started to say to Hermione as he grabbed a sandwich.

“No!” Hermione retorted.

“You’re definitely sweet,” Harry said.

“Hmph!” Hermione exclaimed. She got up, went into the lavatory.

“What?” Harry asked.

“You know how sensitive she gets,” Ron said, “Are you going to open any of it?”

“Later, maybe,” Harry said.

“What’d you order?” Ron asked.

“Dunno what it is,” Harry said, as he grabbed the string on the package, “I’m not expecting anything.”

“Lets find out,” Ron said.

Harry yanked on the string. With a flash of light and a slight thud, the box and string vanished. In its place, mad and on the loose after captivity in its jail, a coiled cobra stared at Harry, threatened with its mouth and fangs.

“Yikes!” Ron jumped backward, his chair toppled, and he fell hard on his bare buttocks, his forehead went forward and his mouth slammed into the wooden seat. “Ow—”

“Stop!” Harry snapped to the snake, a Hiss in Parseltongue.

The cobra kept its menacing gaze at Harry as Harry grabbed his wand.

“Calm down, we can send you back,” Harry hissed in Parseltongue.

Instead, the cobra turned, started uncoiling as it lunged toward Ron. Harry focused his mind as the red stunning curse struck the cobra. For a moment, the cobra paused its assault as it fell, and Ron grabbed his wand. However, the snake rose again and lunged at Harry.

“ _Avada Kedavra!_ ” Ron exclaimed.

Deathly green bead of magic flowed out of Ron’s fourteen inch Willow wand, struck the cobra. Lifeless, the cobra colided onto the floor.

“What’s going on?” Hermione asked as she returned from the lavatory, “I thought I heard—oh.” Her eyes fell onto the dead snake.

Ron’s foot kicked the corpse beneath Finnigan’s four poster bed.

“Evidently I ticked somebody off,” Harry said as he scratched the back of his head.

“I’d say so,” Hermione said, “You’ll report it, right?”

“Why?” Harry said, “The snake’s dead.”

Hermione glared.

“Lay off,” Ron said, “They’ve got enough on their hands to worry about this.”

* * *

Ash, Gale, and Buck hurried away from Potions that afternoon.

“Hufflepuff is closest,” Gale commented.

They ran past the kitchens, to the pile of large barrels stacked in the stone recess on the right hand side of the corridor.1 They went up the sloping, earthy passage, through the low–ceiling room, through the round doors, into the corridor. They entered the cozy room with bedsteads, the first years’ boys’ dormitory, with yellow and black ivy covering the walls.

“Just a moment,” Buck said as he rummaged in his book bag, pulled out the large package.

Gale unwrapped it, inside, jars and jars of Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment .

“A dozen?” Ash asked, picked one up. A flood of memories came to Ash, that short fling with Andy, a blast while it lasted.

“How does this work?” Gale asked.

“I’ll show you,” Ash said as he stripped.

“We’ve got to be starkers?” Buck asked.

“Once I use it, I’m not going anywhere,” Ash said.

Ash opened a jar, pulled out the brush, painted his intact penis, his scrotum with it.

“That’s all?” Gale said, “Doesn’t look like anything.”

“Touch my dick,” Ash said.

“Alright,” Gale said, hesitantly.

Gale ran his finger along the length. Ash felt the stimulation, the excitement swell, as the cock stiffened up, the glans exposed itself.

“Again, the tip,” Ash said, “Trace around it.”

Gale hesitated before his finger ran around the edge of it, around the edge of Ash’s glans, touched the tip, and Ash felt the spasms. Ash stumbled, held onto Gale to keep his balance as the spasms went through him, his off white semen shot out, kept pouring.

“Wicked,” Buck said.

“So I just have to use this?” Gale asked.

“It’ll take time,” Ash said, “I didn’t mean to make this happen—”

“Sure,” Buck said, dubious to the claim.

“After…” Ash took a moment, he realized he probably didn’t want to use Harry’s name. “Remember how I used to be? I found this stuff helped me gain confidence.”

“Of course,” Gale said, snickering, eyes fixed on Ash’s ongoing ejaculation, semen still oozing and dropping to the floor.

“I mean it!” Ash quipped.

“It’s not stopping,” Buck said.

“You both said you wanted to,” Ash said, “This is how I did it, it’s a side–effect from too much use of Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment . Do you want to do this? If so, use it now.” Ash handed the jar to Gale. “It feels wonderful.”

“Okay, I’m in,” Gale said as he stripped.

“Me too,” Buck said.

Ash knelt before Gale. Took the brush in his right, while he reached to hold Gale’s scrotum, began to brush. Ash felt more spasms, put the jar to the side, held on as the surges got stronger, larger puddles beneath him; Ash moved his head forward, rested it on Gale’s abdomen, the penis right below him. His eyes needed to focus, they fixated on the tip of Gale’s foreskin, a tip that now seemed beautiful, gorgeous.

“Alright?” Buck asked.

“Yeah,” Ash said as he was able to regain his composure, return his head back up, “It’s intense at times.”

Ash held Gale’s todger, painted. Ash retracted the foreskin, painted on the glans. He lifted the foreskin, painted beneath.

“Being thorough?” Gale asked.

“Yeah,” Ash replied.

“That’s it?” Gale asked.

“Show you,” Ash said.

Ash lifted Gale’s soft penis, brought the foreskin to his lips, touched his tongue onto the skin, tasted a bit from Gale’s last piss. Gale’s todger stiffened fast, the glans nearly shot out from the erection, and Ash licked across the slit.

“Stop!” Gale said.

Ash pulled back, his own ejaculation surged a bit faster.

“How’s that?” Ash asked.

“I don’t doubt it,” Gale said.

“That good?” Buck asked.

“Yeah, do it,” Gale said, “A stiffy’s a fine price.”

Gale sat on the bed, laid down, hard cock jutting upward.

“Hospital Wing?” Buck asked.

“No, no!” Gale said, “Don’t want it to stop.”

“Here,” Ash said, pulled Buck closer.

Ash’s hands tapped between Buck’s thighs, and Buck spread his legs a bit. Ash held the testicles, began to paint. Ash blew across the balls.

“Stop that!” Buck exclaimed as he began to giggle.

“It’s just the private areas?” Gale asked.

“Whole body’s even more wicked, as I understand it,” Ash said

Ash painted Buck’s penis, held it as he did so, the small member, across the foreskin. Ash retracted Buck’s foreskin, brought himself closer, licked the glans, the slit. Buck’s erection started to form.

“Hey!” Buck exclaimed, pulled back a bit.

Ash, though, painted on the glans, underneath the foreskin. Ash blew across the shaft.

“Oh…oh!” Buck started to mutter, doubled over.

“Alright?” Gale asked.

“Damn, I wasn’t expecting this,” Buck stammered.

A noise, feet from the corridor.

“Hide this,” Ash said as he handed the jar of Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment to Gale.

“Showers,” Buck suggested.

“By the common room,” Gale said.

Ash brought Buck up, wrapped his arm around as Buck could barely walk. Ash took the first step, most of Buck’s weight on him, as they went down the corridor; Ash’s still ejaculating cock left a trail of small puddles.

“Left or right?” Buck asked.

They tried their right, entered a room of toilets and sinks. A couple of other boys gave them a dirty look as they went across to the other side. Ash and Buck entered the shower room, shower heads all around. Buck sat on the tiled floor, Ash sat next to him. Gale entered a moment later, sat to Ash’s other side. All three knees bent upward, backs against the wall; Buck to the right, Gale to the left.

“That was close,” Gale said, “You’re happy.” His eyes focused on Ash’s squirting hard cock.

“Yes,” Buck said.

“You’re both great,” Ash said, his hands moved down, teased their balls.

Gale and Buck were ones Ash didn’t mind showing off to; especially after that other Harry raped him the night before. This felt good, that they were naked together, Ash appreciated it.

“How soon?” Gale asked.

“It was…” Ash counted to himself. “Under a week.”

“A week?” Gale stammered.

“It’s a sex aide!” Ash said, “It’s not meant for this, it’s a _side–effect_ from overuse, and I used the whole jar. You’ll overuse it, and, presto, your dick gets older. In the meanwhile…”

Ash held their erections, felt the spasms, the dry orgasms.

“Weird, but good,” Gale said.

“Yeah,” Buck said.

Gale and Buck reached over, felt Ash’s hard cock, the fingers explored, felt the ridge beneath, the urethrae that was constantly pumping out more and more.

“Didn’t think you touching my junk would be good,” Gale said.

“Don’t stop,” Buck said.

Ash felt both of them, both todgers to either side, both scrotums, while they both teased his. Ash agreed, it felt good, like before, maybe an enhancement of the potion, it was a sex aid after all. Ash’s cock kept the flood going as the hands felt his balls.

“I used it twice a day,” Ash said, “Maybe more often?”

“Sure,” Gale said.

“Can’t stay in here forever,” Buck said, “When do Hufflepuffs shower?”

“Anytime, afternoon’s busy,” Gale said, “Best to get dressed.”

“No,” Buck replied, “This is too good to stop.”

“Grab towels,” Ash said, “Common room?”

“Knickers do happen,” Gale said, “Not a big stretch—too good to care. Now I know why you don’t care with us, Ash.”

“Starkers is better,” Buck said as he tried to stand, stumbled.

Ash stood up, reached down, pulled both Gale and Buck up. Ash had a mild stagger, while Gale and Buck were more like swagger, as they returned to the dormitory, towels around on their shoulders, and grabbed their bookbags. They went into the common room, some glares as they sat down on the same side of a yellow table with a black wooden bench in the low ceiling large room. Ash was in the middle, again as they took out their things.

“Blimey!” Easter Oakdale exclaimed, her eyes glared.

“I don’t fucking care,” Gale whispered to Ash and Buck.

“It’s likely why it helped me,” Ash replied.

“Yeah, good call,” Gale said.

“I’d pay that price,” Buck replied.

“Clean up your mess,” Easter seethed.

Ash blushed as he realized that his balls, which hung over the edge, his ejaculating hard cock, were visible to most of the room.

“Don’t blame him,” Finnigan said as he stood, from the table that also had Justin Finch–Flechley, Dean Thomas, and Ernie Macmillan, “I recognize him, the first year Gryffindor that was _raped_ by Potter last night.”

Ash put his face down onto the table as the eyes focused on him.

“See, even bewitched, ready to accept Potter’s next advance,” Finnigan said, “I mean, Potter’s fucked the teachers over, screwing you over. If Potter attacks, if he assaults you, report it immediately to me, and the teachers, see who’ll give you a shoulder to cry on, if needed.”

Finnigan sat back down.

“It wasn’t Harry,” Ash muttered.

“Lets try the dormitory again,” Gale remarked.

Ash, Buck, and Gale got back up, returned to the dormitory, sat cross–legged on Gale’s bed.

“You’re insisting it wasn’t Potter,” Buck said, “We watched him fuck you in the arse.”

“It wasn’t him, not the real Harry,” Ash said, feeling less restraint as Gale and Buck stared at the still ejaculating hard cock between the legs, “Harry’s the sweetest person you could ever know. He worked out the Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment to help me, and it worked, he helped me to forgive you Gale, reminded me that we could be friends, you, Gale, and me.”

“He worked you up,” Gale said, “Just to get in last night.”

“No!” Ash said, “That person may have looked like Harry, but it wasn’t him. I know because that wasn’t the first time, I’ve had the real Harry fuck me; the one last night had no fucking clue.”

“So, it’s true!” Buck snapped.

“I was feeling rotten, so I begged Harry for it,” Ash said, “That Harry, the real Harry, asked, pestered, before he reluctantly agreed. The real Harry was there when I had overused Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment and couldn’t stop spewing this—” Ash grabbed a bit of his semen oozing out of his slit “—so the real Harry _knew_ whereas that rapist was surprised. Therefore, it was not the real Harry, it was somebody else pretending to be Harry.”

“How?” Gale asked.

“I wish I knew,” Ash said.

“You love Potter,” Buck said.

“I think he’s being wronged,” Ash said.

Ash didn’t think about it, the stickiness on the fingers, brought them up to his mouth to lick them clean. His tongue tasted the saltiness, the protein flavor, before he remembered what was on his fingers.

“Ew,” Ash said.

Buck and Gale laughed.

“You try it,” Buck said to Gale, “I dare you.”

Gale hesitated before he reached over. Finger beneath Ash’s drooling fountain, covered it in the off–white, brought it up, sucked on the finger.

“Bleah,” Gale said, “Your turn.”

Buck reached, scooped a bit more with two fingers, brought it up, tasted the stickiness with his tongue out.

“Agreed,” Buck said.

Ash leaned back, stretched his legs. Both Gale and Buck kept focus on Ash’s hard cock that now towered upward, the semen flowed down the side. Gale’s stomach rumbled.

“We forgot about dinner,” Gale said.

It occurred to Ash.

“Ask the House Elfs,” Ash said, “When the coast is clear, go to the kitchen, tickle the pear on the painting, they’ll be happy to help.”

“I’ll be right back,” Gale said as he got off the bed, and stood, “I’m doing better.”

Gale walked, left the room.

“Money well spent,” Buck said, “Good idea of yours.”

Buck teased Ash’s testicles, which only made his dick more determined to make a mess.

“It’s meant for older wizards who…guess they have trouble,” Ash said.

“I don’t … _want_ … to think about it,” Buck said, “I didn’t realize that you and Harry was sexual.”

“It wasn’t,” Ash said, “Accident, but it became reassuring more than anything. I was stressing out, and somehow, just being with him, starkers, it felt like it was going to be way, way better. He never asked me for anything, never started anything. I played…just seeing the startled look, I loved it, so I kept it up. Whoever that was last night, it wasn’t Harry, not the real Harry.”

“I wouldn’t go blabbing that,” Buck said.

“That’s why I don’t,” Ash said.

Buck moved a bit more to Ash’s side, close enough that Ash reached over, felt Buck’s hard erection.

“Maybe it’s the Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment doing more?” Ash asked.

“Could be,” Buck said, “I mean, I ought to be objecting, but I’d rather you hold it.”

“Then I’ll keep holding it,” Ash said.

“You do that,” Buck replied.

“Glad to see you’re holding up,” Gale said as he returned with a large tray, his erection still firm.

Gale set the tray down on the bed, straddled Ash’s head with his knees. Gale’s hard erection loitered just above Ash. Ash saw the flinching, the clenching, of the shaft around the ridge, a hard cock that wanted to ejaculate but didn’t yet know how; Ash wished it could. Instead, Gale took a chicken strip with the crispy crust, lowered it, jabbed it several times with his own hard cock, before bringing it to Ash’s mouth.

“Just piss on it,” Buck said, laughing as Ash ate the chicken strip.

“Next one,” Gale promised.

“Then suck mine,” Ash said.

“Deal,” Gale said.

“Blimey!” Buck exclaimed.

“Got enough to use as a dipping sauce,” Gale said, eyes on the puddle at the base of Ash’s erection.

Gale handed a chicken strip over to Buck, who did just that with the chicken strip. Gale took another, hung it in front of his own. Ash watched as the golden power wash sprayed, Gale pissed above, the bitter shower came down before the strip entered.

“Disgusting,” Ash said as he ate.

Gale bent over, the mouth clamped down on Ash’s hard erection.

“He’s still…he’s still…” Buck said.

Ash saw the shaft still above him, the balls that hung freely beneath the erection, over his head, while he felt the licking, the cleaning. Ash reached up, felt and pulled. Gale lowered his rear, the erection rested on Ash’s cheek.

“Don’t suffocate,” Buck said.

Ash laughed as Gale’s balls rested on the forehead. Ash’s right fingers reached between them, wedged themselves between the cock and the stomach, massaged the upper side of Gale’s shaft.

“Want to try a second coat?” Buck asked.

“Sure,” Gale muttered, “Trunk.”

Buck moved over, brought out the jar of Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment .

“Need room,” Buck said.

Ash bench pressed against the hips, Gale moved his knees to bring his butt upward. Ash felt the lips hit around the base of the penis, as Gale’s mouth fully enveloped Ash’s sticky hard cock. Ash felt the orgasm continue, the surging, the expelling, the acceptance as Gale kept it up. Ash watched as Buck brought the brush over, painted the hard shaft, the balls, dangling over head.

“Here?” Buck asked as he brought the brush between the buttocks.

“Sure,” Ash said.

Buck painted inward, around the dark opening, around Gale’s anus.

“Bit full to paint you,” Ash said.

“I can see,” Buck replied.

“Paint and join in,” Ash said, “See if I can get both.”

Buck painted his own erection, testicles, his anus. Ash twerked, rolled himself and Gale over onto Gale’s back. Ash’s hard cock remained in Gale’s sucking mouth. Buck knelt on the bed, slid his butt, legs, forward until his balls touched Gale’s. Ash held both hard cocks together, ridge against ridge.

“Weird,” Buck remarked.

Ash opened his mouth wide, let both enter, nearly stuffed the mouth full. Ash tasted, his tongue felt both of the glans, together. Footsteps approached. Buck pulled the covers over them all.

“What—who are you?” asked a first year.

“How dare you interrupt!” Buck snapped, “Gale dared me to switch places—and you’re messing it up!”

“Sorry,” the first year said, retreated.

Gale stopped sucking.

“Nice save,” Gale said.

“Hope he bought it,” Buck said as he pulled the cover off.

“Beldon would’ve quoted bible verses if he didn’t,” Gale said.

“He believes in that crap?” Buck asked.

“Yes,” Gale said, “And my butt now itches.”

“I’ll solve that,” Ash said, with an inkling of how to do it.

“You do that,” Gale said, “Buck, forward.”

Buck moved back, forward. Ash slid to the side as Gale’s mouth went over Buck’s hard erection; Gale otherwise rested, on his side, dick toward Buck, only the head over Buck’s crotch. Ash moved, with the feeling like his mind wasn’t in control, just his nards doing the commands, and he laid to Gale’s backside.

“Like that,” Gale said.

“Here,” Buck said.

Ash felt the fingers align his sticky hard cock between the fleshy cheeks, the semen coated in between, and Ash pushed inward.

“Oh…ah…” Gale muttered.

Ash’s right fingers slipped beneath Gale’s side, felt the erection trapped against Buck’s shoulder, massaged it as Ash drilled as he knew how to do. Ash felt Buck’s fingers teasing the testicles, increased the pleasure immensely. It felt both wrong and right, as Ash saw Gale sucking on Buck’s own erection. Ash was unsure, how long to keep going, as his own penis was still orgasming, ejaculating, inside Gale. Ash did see Gale reach between the legs, and based on the placement, assumed the fingers were teasing Buck’s anus.

“I don’t regret this,” Buck said.

“Wha..What?” Gale stammered.

Ash stopped his thrusting, glanced over Gale in time, hard cock still on Buck’s shoulder as the spasms occurred, white shot out.

“Ew,” Buck said.

“I…I…” Buck said.

“Worked a bit faster than I had expected,” Ash said.

“Keep going,” Gale said to Ash.

Ash returned to drilling, letting his hard cock slide inside Gale.

“Is this…is this what…” Buck started.

Gale pulled off, stroked Buck’s cock. Both Gale and Ash studied the urethrae pulsating before Buck’s cock began to spew as the lights went out.

“Curfew,” Gale said.

“I’m not moving,” Ash said, as he rested, though he kept his hard cock inside Gale.

“Don’t,” Gale said.

Buck did move, over, onto his side, in front of Gale. Buck moved backward, let Gale’s cock penetrate between the buttocks.

“Hurts, but doesn’t,” Buck said.

Buck pulled the cover over them, Gale grabbed it, pulled, and Ash secured it behind himself. Ash felt the hands, reached and felt. All hands had moved, held the three pairs of testicles together, their heads on the pillow. Ash’s mind knew it was wrong, but his heart felt it was right. Him and his friends, together, exploring; if sleeping together didn’t spell friendship, Ash didn’t know what would. Instead, he stayed there, left his hard cock exactly where it was wanted to be, and let himself drift to sleep.

* * *

“Here it is,” Ash said, the next day during lunch, in the library. He brought the article over to Gale and Buck.

“Snape couldn’t get us to stop smiling,” Buck said.

“I know,” Gale said.

“Alright,” Ash said.

Monday, 22 November, 1847

The Daily Prophet

Mothers for Moralistic Magic Petition for Removal of

Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment

Mothers for Moralistic Magic implores the Ministry for Magic to immediately list Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment as a controlled substance, for medicinal use only. While recognizing the legitimate use for healing, the Mothers for Moralistic Magic argue that every Wizard and Witch should be shocked to the other uses that Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment has become infamous for. Incidents of adultery, prostitution, and other illicit activities can be attributed to Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment , which doesn’t include the side effects, side effects known to corrupt underage wizards. Think of the children, think of our world, and banish this invader from poisoning the very foundation to every Wizarding family.

Kirkburton Family Defends Ointment

Frederick Kirkburton, current heir to Henry Kirkburton’s secret recipe, reiterates the important role his family’s ointment has in the Wizarding world. In addition to its medicinal properties, Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment as saved numerous marriages, numerous Wizarding families, because it allows for a wizard to discretely solve what he’d be too embarrassed to seek a healer to solve. Frederick reminds everybody that Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment is perfectly safe when used as directed in those situations that warrant it. Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment can be trusted to help you out when you need it the most, please use responsibly.

“Which is it?” Buck asked.

“This is more useful, I think,” Gale said, setting down a roll of parchment.

Summary of Kirkburton Safety Study

Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment is a controversial treatment for impotence that can also relieve extreme forms of sunburns and other skin related ailments. Historical records are uncertain as to which usage was discovered first, however, both uses caught on spectacularly by the fifteenth century for obvious reasons. Useful for a wizard or witch who got the charm a bit wrong when being burned at the stake, this ointment also proved popular in bed.

When applied, Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment activates every nerve in the skin, opening up the cells to be more receptive to touch. Repeated applications in a short period exacerbate the effect. Ointment will seep into the blood, stimulate the adrenal glands to release extra adrenaline. Dopamine is released into the brain. Ointment will also stimulate gonads, the ovaries in a witch or the testicles in a wizard. Direct application to a wizard’s genitals will enhance libido and push sex drive into full effect, which confirms the anecdotal evidence of an aged wizard acting like a boy coming to age at Hogwarts.

While the Kirkburton Family acknowledges side effects in underage wizards, they point out that they market their product to older wizards and healers. These side effects can include an accidental acceleration of puberty and elevated sexual awareness as a result. Additional research is recommended to evaluate how Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment can induce queer characteristics in young adolescents.

“In other words, us,” Gale said.

“And more research was done,” Buck said, pointing to the other roll, “One Joseph Mengele—he’s…”

“Infamous from World War II,” Ash said, “Nazi doctor—”

“Evidently a wizard,” Gale said, as he read the parchment, “He used Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment during his experiments, and yes, it does induce what we did last night. Apply it to both…yeah, that’s why it worked Ash.”

“So, if we keep using it?” Buck asked.

“Maybe we grow up faster?” Ash said, “I’m not in a hurry.”

“Me neither,” Gale said, “But last night—”

“Awesome,” Buck said.

“I loved it,” Ash said. It felt good, he had no regrets, and he figured in time, girls would happen, but until then, Buck and Gale were good to hang out with. “Try it again?”

“I thought these were against Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment ,“ Gale said.

“So, do we stop?” Ash asked.

“No,” Gale said.

“I loved it,” Buck said, “With or without it.”

“I’m in to try it again,” Gale said.

“Somewhere more private?” Ash asked.

“Deal,” Gale said.

They shook hands.

* * *

Ash, Gale, and Buck were sitting around the table in the slightly crowded Gryffindor Common Room Friday afternoon. Ash caught sight of Harry and Ron flying down the side, from the castle, in their Quidditch Robes as they headed toward the Quidditch Pitch.

“I still prefer the grounding of Hufflepuff,” Gale said, “No heights.”

“Here you can see it all,” Buck said.

Ash flipped the pages to Magical Drafts and Potions , when his eyes caught it, stopped and read.

One commonly overlooked benefit to brewing your own potions is the control one has in the outcome. Readily available potions might have more or less than you bargained for. An infamous case is

Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment including a Love Potion into their brew.

“That’s what’s fucking in there?” Gale stammered.

Ash nodded.

“I don’t regret it,” Buck said, “Do you?”

Ash shook his head.

“No,” Gale said.

“I’ve got the jar, whenever you’re ready,” Buck said.

Owen Cauldwell came running into the common room.

“Colin, Colin!” Owen shouted.

Eyes went onto Colin and Ginny, snogging in the other corner.

“Go away!” Colin snapped.

“It’s Dennis,” Owen said, “He’s been attacked, in the Hospital Wing.”

“Any guesses?” Thomas asked as Colin ran out of the Gryffindor Common Room.

“Like you need to,” Owen said.

Ash grabbed his things, ran out of the tower. Buck and Gale pursued. Ash slid down the banisters of the stairwells, ran outside, down the hill, to the Quidditch Pitch. Harry, Ron, and the rest of the Gryffindor team were in the air, practicing.

“Wishful thinking,” Gale said.

“Sorry I’m late,” Buck said, carrying a basket.

“What’s the idea?” Gale asked.

“Follow me,” Buck said.

Buck led Gale and Ash, to the Forbidden Forrest, into it along a path.

“Okay, privacy,” Gale said.

“How far?” Ash asked, as he remembered the last time he was in the forest, after Harry had ran off to find him a half month ago.

“Just over here,” Buck said, pointed as they pushed through brush.

They came to a small pond.

“Somebody’s been here before,” Gale said, as he pulled out a blanket from a hollow in a log.

“How old is the school?” Buck asked.

“Centuries,” Ash said, “A thousand years, I think.”

“They could come back,” Gale said.

“And they would be out of bounds too,” Buck said, “Is this private enough?”

“Yes,” Ash said as he pulled his shirt off.

Ash took off his shoes first as Gale stripped. Buck stripped, and they stood there, starkers, faced each other. Ash now appreciated the inherent beauty in his friends, both with blond hair, Buck with his brown eyes, Gale with his blue. Ash’s todger stiffened to great its friends. They exchanged some blushes, but smiled at the three hard erections.

Buck held up the jar of Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment .

“If it’s a love potion, best to have me apply it to you,” Buck said.

Buck went to his knees, studied Ash’s hardness.

“What are you waiting for?” Gale asked.

“Does this seem bigger?” Buck asked as he held the cock, one that was a bit sore from the day of ejaculating.

Gale knelt, grabbed Ash’s erection, tried to swallow it into his mouth. Ash felt the flesh hanging at the back.

“Yeah, it is,” Gale said, “And—what’s this?”

Gale tugged slightly at the scrotum, Ash felt it.

“Hair?” Buck said, “Already? How much have you used?”

“Not enough,” Ash said.

They laughed.

“Alright,” Buck said, as he brought the brush to the base around the hard cock, “Bit more—just in case.”

Buck spread the ointment a good inch above the penis.

“What are you thinking?” Gale asked Buck.

“Go for broke,” Buck said.

Like it had been with Andy, Ash realized that shame had been replaced with pride. Ash wanted Gale and Buck to see it, to marvel, to let his stiffy put a smile onto their faces, and it made Ash feel better about himself. It was the same as he had seen in Ron and Harry, desiring to not hide, to share their cocks with those closest, with those wanting a piece. Ash now felt the same with Gale and Buck, wanting to share, both his and theirs. Ash felt the brush go between his buttocks, paint his anus.

“You’re next,” Gale said to Buck.

Buck stood. Gale wrapped his mouth around Buck’s hard cock.

“Is it the same?” Ash asked.

“Maybe a bit bigger,” Gale said, “It will get bigger.”

Gale took the Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment , painted Buck’s hard erection, above it, around it, the scrotum with the, and around the anus.

“You know, we’re sharing that brush,” Buck said.

“A problem?” Ash asked.

Buck shook his head. Gale stood, handed the jar to Ash. Ash knelt, painted Gale’s hard erection first, before he painted around, above, the testicles, and Gale’s butt hole.

“Quality control,” Ash said.

“What?” Buck asked.

Ash, though, held Gale’s hips, brought his tongue closer to the tempting target, licked the glans. Ash went closer, let the hardness slip inward. A quick lap around the shaft, and Ash felt the spasms start, the pulsations on the ridge, tasted the saltiness, and began to suckle it like chugging on a nipple. Each pulse, his tongue pulled it inward, and Ash swallowed.

“Share it around,” Gale said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ash said as he pulled back.

Surge after surge, Gale kept ejaculating.

“So, we stay out here?” Gale asked.

“Yep,” Buck said, “Until…dunno, I don’t want to stop.”

“Nope,” Gale said.

“Definitely not,” Ash said, “Got enough for the weekend?”

“Lets find out,” Buck said.

Gale smiled.

“How many jars?” Ash asked.

“Plenty,” Gale said.

“Last night, I really banged you in the butt?” Ash asked.

“I remember,” Gale said, “Buck needs it.”

“Guess so,” Buck said, “Just a moment, warm up first.”

Buck bent over, went to his hands and knees a short distance away, arranged small twigs, more logs over it, before he brought out his wand, and started the fire. Ash saw the bare anus, Buck’s.

“Stay still,” Ash said.

“Okay,” Buck said.

“You first,” Gale said as Ash approached Buck from behind.

Ash went to his knees, brought his dick to Buck’s buttocks.

“Yes,” Ash said.

“Try it,” Buck said.

Ash pushed his cock forward, it saddled in between, dug inward, pressed into Buck’s anus. Ash drilled, as he had seen, as he knew how to do.

“Flip over,” Gale suggested.

Together, Buck began the roll, Ash finished it, until Ash was on his back, still thrusting into Buck. Buck was now on Ash’s stomach. Ash reached around, felt the testicles, the stiffness, before he pulled out. Together, they all watched Ash’s hard cock erupt, the boyish magma poured out, drenched Buck’s pouch, and Buck’s began to squirt. Buck giggled, laughed, rolled off Ash.

“All firing,” Buck said.

“What’s in the basket?” Gale asked.

“Food,” Buck replied.

They moved, to lay with their heads against a log, on their backs, their balls facing the fire to soak in the heat. All three hard cocks jutted upward, poured down the sides, and none of them bothered to hide it. Ash felt his orgasms doing their work, he was definitely relaxed, definitely happy, like his two friends.

“I don’t think I’d take this back,” Gale said.

“Nope,” Buck said.

“Here,” Gale said as he started to pass over the fried chicken legs.

Ash’s left hand grabbed the drumstick, while his right reached over, felt Buck’s sticky foreskin..

“Always together,” Buck said.

“Cheers!” Gale exclaimed.

They tapped their drumsticks together, and Ash felt content.

* * *

1 Description from Pottermore, https://www.pottermore.com/writing–by–jk–rowling/hufflepuff–common–room  



	42. Comfort

Gia walked with Nate, away from the swimming pool, both starkers, and Snuffles followed a short ways behind. She felt the pressure starting to mount in her bladder, but decided to wait.

“Your boyfriend—?” Nate asked.

“He’s got a school sport himself,” Gia said, “They don’t practice daily, but today’s a practice day.”

“Aw,” Nate said, “Technically, you don’t have a sport.”

“Keeps me fit,” Gia said as she watched him pull a knot out of his blond pubic hair.

Nate’s eyes surveyed her, the nipples, the breasts, the shaved pubic, and he blushed. Gia watched his soft penis elongate, stiffen into a hard erection.

“It does,” Nate said.

They came to a halt, where a path forked from the road’s sidewalk. Nate and Gia faced each other, his circumcised hard cock jutted forward toward her, a dick that’d look especially great if she were to piss just right, to get her stream to fall from the tip of his shaft..

“Thanks,” Nate said, “You and your boyfriend—it gave me the courage to try this too.”

“It wasn’t ever about showing off, to anybody else save me,” Gia said, “I’m glad you’re getting comfortable.”

“Forgive me, but you are…” Nate’s eyes studied her a bit more, including the clitoris protruding outward “…I’m tempted, very tempted.”

“Try it,” Gia said, her hand reached for his hard cock.

“No…no,” Nate said as he pulled back, away from her grip, “Sorry, kinda an unwritten rule between guys, I’ll keep.”

“If change your mind, come on over later,” Gia said, “Today or tomorrow or even Sunday.”

“Later,” Nate replied, “Maybe.”

Nate went ahead on the sidewalk. Gia took the trail, Snuffles followed her. Gia found it ironic, the guys that she wanted to try, the best, were rather honest and held back, teased her as much as she teased them. She touched her engorged clitoris, one that desired to be touched, a touch that needed to be satisfied. Wind across her nipples, only enticed her desires, stimulated things further as she walked. Every wave of a neighbor simply was an opportunity not taken, as she made her way to 26 Oak, where she entered. Snuffles bounded up the stairs, came back down, growled at Cody by the fire, before he followed Gia up the stairs. Sirius grabbed her shoulder.

“Gia,” Sirius said as he held a letter, “I see Richard’s here, I presume Harry’s—?”

“Quidditch practice,” Gia said.

Her eyes surveyed Sirius, though his unshaven face, the older face, this older man, she wanted younger on her tits.

“Remus wanted me to look into something,” Sirius said, “Owl if Harry doesn’t show up, otherwise, I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Yeah, sure,” Gia said.

Sirius transformed, Snuffles bound down the stairs.

“Mum certainly wouldn’t appreciate if she knew the truth,” Richard said, with just a white T–shirt on as he pulled on a darker shirt, the penis hung free.

“Doing something?” Gia asked.

“Dinner with Jen,” Richard said, “I’m waiting for the trousers to finish drying.”

“Hmm…” Gia said, her eyes on the loose todger. She reached, held it, she wanted to feel it, the sensation of something inside her as quickly as she could.

“Um…” Richard said, “I meant it is a date, _my_ date.”

“Mind if I borrowed—?” Gia started.

“Get your prescription checked,” Richard said, “You’re horny as heck.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Gia asked.

“Jen,” Richard said.

“Take my advice,” Gia said, “Skip the trousers, just skip them, let these—” she held his testicles “—do the advertising.”

“I—alright,” Richard said as his dick stiffened, “Challenge accepted.”

Richard put on socks, shoes, a tie, and grabbed a light jacket. Gia watched that hard shaft with some envy.

“Hot tub’s good too,” Richard said before he turned. Gia watched his bare buttocks flex as he went down the stairs, the testicles visible between the legs.

“Date?” Harry asked as he came out of her bedroom, starkers.

“There’s enough in the refrigerator,” Gia said, as her eyes surveyed his dark pubic hair, the todger hanging loose, and not wanting to wait, “Lets see if it’s any good.”

Gia let Harry take the lead, she watched his buttocks, the testicles swung between his legs, when she heard the typical thud. Ron came out of her bedroom; he had a Weasley family jumper, and just the jumper, with his bookbag around the shoulder. Hermione followed, though she was dressed in her school uniform. Gia went down the stairs, reached the small landing at the bottom, and turned around.

“Stop!” Gia said.

“What?” Ron asked, midway down the steps.

“I dropped—could you pick it up?” Gia asked.

“Where?” Ron asked.

“Just behind you,” Gia said, “It’s tiny, really tiny.”

Ron turned around, bent over, knees to the steps, legs spread slightly. Gia studied Ron’s buttocks, the two cheeks to either side, the dark crack hiding the anus, and the loose testicles hanging freely between his legs, the tip of the foreskin peeking out.

“What am I looking for?” Ron asked.

Gia remained quiet, her eyes on the wads of flesh, suspended, the flap of skin held both in place beneath him, the hem of his deep red knitted sweater behind it; a sweater that made it dark behind, made the two balls distinct.

“What?” Ron asked, glancing at her between his legs.

“She wanted to see your arse,” Hermione said.

“Oh, just say so,” Ron said, as he wagged his buttocks. He held the cheeks wide, showed the anus in need of cleaning, with its pinkness in the middle of brown stains with red hairs mixed in. “Satisfied?”

Gia reached, her right fingers together, lifted beneath the wads, lifted both testicles upward, together, weighing them. Wisps of red hair ran both thighs, and were on the balls in her hand as Ron returned the stare.

“Harry!” Ron shouted, “Your girlfriend wants attention!”

“Bring these by later,” Gia said to Ron.

“If you don’t mind,” Hermione said to Gia, “I’d like to get home.”

“Yes, alright,” Gia said as she released her hold on Ron’s bollocks.

Pfffpt!

“Sorry,” Ron said just before he stood up.

“No you’re not,” Hermione said to Ron as he turned around.

“Tomorrow then?” Gia asked.

“I’d like that,” Ron said, matter–of–factly.

“Sure you will,” Hermione said, “Lets get going.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” Ron said.

Ron went down the steps, to the wooden landing. Ron stopped next to Gia, retracted his foreskin, and held his soft pink glans against Gia’s clitoris, rubbed it, and his todger began to stiffen. Gia wondered for a moment, whether she could bring it into her, let it soak as she wanted to.

“Do we need to stop for you two to bang?” Hermione asked.

“Later,” Ron said.

Ron smiled at Gia, stepped off the lower landing, and went out the front door; Hermione followed. Gia reached for the door to close it, but her mind shifted as she moved in the living room, as she touched her clitoris, rubbed it, felt the eagerness, the longing for a bit more while surrounded by those who treat her with way more delicacy than she desired. Gia went for the noise, and walked into the kitchen. Harry, was hunched over the sink, his arms reached into it, washed a dish. Gia walked over to this naked boy, his curved back, the round buttocks, and leaned into his backside. Her clitoris, left idle between the cheeks of his crack.

“Hi,” Gia said.

“Hmph,” Harry muttered, his hands kept washing dishes in the sudsy water.

Gia’s right hand reached around, felt the billowing pubic hair, the soft penis beneath it.

“Excuse me,” Harry grumbled.

Gia’s hand felt the balls dangling nearby.

“Trying to work,” Harry muttered.

Gia’s hand left, she stepped back. She took two more steps, grabbed the camera on the counter.

“Smile,” Gia said.

“What?!” Harry stammered as he twisted to glare.

Click!

“Blimey!” Harry exclaimed as he glared.

Gia, though, brought the camera in.

Click! Click!

“Plenty of pictures already!” Harry stammered.

“But, these, are, _mine_ ,” Gia said, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Harry said as he placed the last of the dishes into the rack. He pulled the plug in the sink and began to clear the counters.

“You’re being irritable,” Gia said, “So something _is_ wrong.”

“Nothing!” Harry exclaimed.

Gia sensed the irritation, the frustration, in his voice. She stepped closer.

“I want you to swear.” Gia gripped his soft todger, squeezed as she held it tight. “Do you, Harry James Potter, swear on your dick that nothing’s bothering you? That nothing’s wrong?”

“No,” he muttered.

Gia stepped backward, hands to the counter, lifted herself to sit with her buttocks on the counter. She brought her feet up, spread them apart.

“Look at me,” Gia commanded.

Harry stoppered up the sink, poured in the detergent, and began to fill. He took the mop, dipped it in, and put it to the floor.

“Thought I’d clean,” Harry grumbled.

“And I’ve been wanting to bang all afternoon,” Gia said, “But I couldn’t.”

“Later,” Harry mumbled.

“I changed my mind,” Gia said, “You’re ticked off, you’re holding a grudge. You’re not fucking me tonight.”

“You’re holding me—?!” Harry stammered.

“I want you to _talk_ ,” Gia said.

Harry, though, pushed the mop across the floor.

“You assumed I’m…ticked,” Harry said, irritation in his voice.

Harry turned, aimed his butt at her. Gia brought her legs down fast, the feet hooked around his waist, pulled him back toward her. She leaned forward as his back pushed against her crotch, and she reached down. Her fingers grabbed the soft todger, with her palms in his black pubic hair, started to tease his foreskin. She tried to relax her bladder as she began to speak.

“Your body, your actions, betray otherwise,” Gia said, “Hiding, avoiding it doesn’t spare me the burden, but being nasty _is_ definitely a burden. Please tell me what the fuck’s going on, at school, because that’ll help. So, swear by your dick to tell me.”

Harry squirmed, turned around as he tried to escape, but Gia’s fingers latched back on, squeezed on the soft todger between her fingers.

“Don’t injure it!” Harry snapped.

“Just a little pressure,” Gia said.

“Ouch,” said Nate as he entered the kitchen, starkers, “Sorry, took me a bit to realize your request was a distress.”

Gia clenched her bladder muscles just in time, couldn’t feel any seepage.

“Distress?” Harry asked.

“I’m going up to the hot tub,” Gia said, “If me listening to you helps you handle your burden, then that’s what I promise to do. I want you to talk to me up there, alright?”

She released her grip. He sighed.

“Promise?” Gia asked.

“Yes,” Harry muttered.

“Sincere?” Gia asked.

“Yes,” Harry said, “If you don’t mind…” he grabbed the mop.

“Major points,” Gia said, “Still, I want you to talk, alright?”

“Yes,” Harry replied.

“Finish and then come up,” Gia said, “Nate?”

Harry glared, but Gia waved for Nate to follow. She went up the spiral staircase, the one from the living room up to the second floor door, and she went out onto the deck; dusk had started but wasn’t yet finished. Gia stepped up the steps, sunk her feet into the water. She felt the pressure, the need to piss, but felt it wasn’t to be an ordinary piss.

“You seemed in distress earlier,” Nate said, “And your boyfriend’s a nervous wreck.”

“Come in,” Gia said, her fingers pointed.

Nate stepped up, his loose testicles hung beneath his blond pubic hair as he stepped in.

“Not all the way,” Gia said as she sat down on the bench, “I still want to see you.”

“You’re really after my cock, aren’t you?” Nate asked.

“It is…gorgeous,” Gia said, her eyes focused on the partially engorged flesh dangling a foot in front of her, “I’ve seen you wank, I take it you’ve banged Tracey too.”

“Yes,” Nate said.

Gia’s eyes, though, watched as Nate stiffened, the erection jutted straight out at her. His glans was a bit dry, but the necessary pieces were there.

“You’re handsome.” Her eyes surveyed him, the blond hair on the head, the pink lips, the nostrils with his breath, the chest, the nipples, the armpits whose hair was barely visible, the blond pubic hair, and of course, the hard cock aimed at her. “I confess to being curious.”

“Curious?” Nate asked.

Gia grabbed a floater pillow, placed it beneath her head as she slid, floated. Nate moved a bit back as she rose between his legs, fast, his cock bumped against her clitoris.

“Curious,” Gia said, “Mind the mess? I promise a mess.”

She realized she was really pressing, really tempting, but she’s seen him starkers for long enough to pique her curiosity, along with her clitoris that craved the attention. She desired this, she wanted it.

“Your boyfriend—” Nate started.

“A nonbinding vote, _only_ ,” Gia said, “Aren’t you curious too? Let it just…happen.”

She saw the grin on Nate’s face, the permission, and he caved to her request. Nate brought his hard tip to her, to the folds, aimed, and pushed. Nearly on cue, her bladder responded as she had wanted it to respond, and she began to pee.

“Eww,” Nate started.

“Intimate,” Gia said, as she felt his shaft push in, “Some experience too, helps you.”

Nate kept pushing, her piss soaked his stomach, the golden wash sprayed and came back down. He touched her clitoris.

“This too?” Nate asked.

“Please,” Gia said.

Sensually, the touch of his fingers, the teasing, pushed into her, blended with his thrusts, the stimulation. He kept it slow, seemed to wait until she felt the bearing down, and he moved faster. Nate, for a moment, stumbled, held it into her.

“What?” Harry stammered.

“Keep…” Gia started, but the infusion, the surge in extra heat, and she knew Nate’s dick was performing.

Nate pulled out, white clung to his dick.

“Now I know what you wanted,” Nate replied.

Gia stood up, held Nate tightly, kissed him.

“What are you up to?” Harry asked Gia.

“I had to bang,” Gia said, “I’ve had the urge all afternoon and Nate’s been kind enough to do it—no drama!”

“Thank you,” Nate said, now blushing.

“And you—” she pointed to Harry, “—get in and explain what the fuck happened today.”

“I’ll be going,” Nate said.

“You can stay,” Gia said.

“And I just fucked his girlfriend,” Nate said, “I’m not staying.”

Nate got out of the hot tub, went through the door, down the stairs, and out of sight.

“You just—” Harry started.

“You’re the one that insisted it be an _open_ relationship,” Gia said, “I’m just testing those waters.”

“I meant Ron!” Harry said as he got into the hot tub.

“Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Ant, and _Ash_?” Gia said, “You’re not exactly acting monogamous either.”

“That’s different!” Harry said.

“Is it?” Gia asked, “Nate’s my friend too. So, if it’s an open relationship, it’s open, and I’m fine with that.”

Harry sighed.

“You’re my lover, so long as you keep being open and honest with me,” Gia said, “Understood?”

“Suppose so,” Harry said, “I do want to bang.”

“You’ve got my permission to wank,” Gia said, “Here.”

Gia sat back down, brought Harry to sit in her lap, lean back, while his cock was jutting upward out of the water, his balls floated in it between the legs. She watched him curl his fingers around the soft digit.

“What about you?” Gia asked.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” Harry said, “Guess I was being a bit of a jerk.”

“Understand my position?” Gia asked.

“Yes,” Harry said, “I…as I was practicing Quidditch, Dennis Creevy was beaten.”

“Colin’s brother?” Gia asked.

“All of the Gryffindor Quidditch team could’ve vouched for me,” Harry said, “Only Ron did—which went over as well as you’d expect. Dumbledore, of course, believes me, but that doesn’t stop the others from thinking otherwise.”

Gia reached around, down, felt his testicles, watched as the todger finally began to stiffen, slowly, between Harry’s fingers.

“Ta,” Harry said, “It’s like the other students _want_ me to be guilty. Take Ash, that sweet boy, who simply wandered the halls—naked, yes, but that’s no reason to rape him. Ash didn’t tattle, didn’t say anything, yet, it was around the castle in no time — Ash even insisted it wasn’t me, to no avail.”

Gia’s thumbs pressed into the firm pink glans that hung outside the foreskin, as Harry began to stroke. Apart from the cock, Gia felt the rest of Harry’s skin against hers easing up, relaxing in the hot water.

“I can’t do magic,” Gia said, “I can’t go there and wave a wand to make it go away. I can listen, alright?”

“I guess so,” Harry replied.

“As bad as that is,” Gia said, “I want you to forget about it when you come here, don’t let it drag you down, here.”

“Wish it worked that way,” Harry said.

“Let it,” Gia said.

Gia’s fingers took over for Harry’s, held it for the moment she figured he’d need. A moment later, a golden stream went up. Harry laughed as he pissed. She leaned over, kissed his head. Her fingers massaged, stroked. Harry sighed, her fingers felt the ridge beneath, as his spasms started, the muscles pumped, and the off white liquid shot upward. Harry grinned as he ejaculated, the semen went down over both her fingers and his shaft, cascaded downward.

“Ta,” Harry said.

“Be a good boy—at school,” Gia said.

Harry laughed before he went limp. Every muscle relaxed as his weight leaned into her and he fell to sleep.

* * *

Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione had just left 26 Oak.

“You seriously considered her offer,” Hermione said.

“I ain’t turning it down,” Ron said.

“And you dressed silly,” Hermione said.

“Mum made it!” Ron said, pulling at the scarlet jumper, the big _R_ emblazoned on it, “Last Christmas jumper she ever knitted for me.”

They came to a stop.

“I meant below,” Hermione said.

Ron glanced down at the hard todger jutting out, and the red pubic hair sticking out beneath the hem.

“It matches,” Ron said.

“Right!” Hermione laughed.

“It’s warm enough, you don’t need _that_ stuff on,” Ron said, “Makes you look fat!”

“Don’t!” Hermione glared, her eyes flashed.

“Sorry,” Ron said, “Just, I like you starkers, you know, the way you ought to be.”

“I know _that_ ,” Hermione said, “I expect my parents to be _home_.”

“Show off your beauty,” Ron said, “Please?”

“If anything happens—” Hermione started.

“I’ll remove my jumper,” Ron promised.

Hermione lowered her trousers, her knickers.

“See, better already,” Ron said.

Ron grabbed her trousers, knickers, carried them in his bookbag, and they continued. Hermione glanced at his erection swaying with his gait.

“So, you’ll tell your folks about…everything?” Ron asked.

“Like if they didn’t get notice that I was up on conspiracy charges,” Hermione said, “Harry shouldn’t have to lie.”

“As Harry says, we’re better starkers together,” Ron said.

“No he didn’t,” Hermione said.

“I could’ve sworn—” Ron started.

Hermione laughed.

“Better idea,” Ron said as he stopped, “Here.”

Ron pulled his jumper off, set it onto his bookbag, and lifted her Gryffindor sweater vest, her shirt, her tie.

“I wasn’t planning on showing up starkers to Mum and Dad,” Hermione said.

“Shouldn’t have to,” Ron said as he threaded his jumper onto her, over the breasts, covered her naval, and threatened to cover the carpet. “Now you’re a proper Weasley.”

Hermione shook her head.

“Yeah, it’s working,” Ron said, “Makes me want to—” He moved forward, painted her clitoris with the tip of his hard erection. “Yeah, but I’ll wait, show it to your parents.”

“Ron!” Hermione said.

“That I am,” Ron grinned.

They returned to walking, came to the familiar detached house, one car in the driveway. Hermione reached beneath the fake rock, pulled out the key, unlocked the door, and entered. They heard the beep from the alarm, she walked over, entered the code.

“Weird,” Hermione said.

“Maybe they’re not home,” Ron said, “But we are.” His eyes went onto her.

“What are you thinking of—like I needed to ask,” Hermione said, “Figures.”

“Maybe they’re still at work,” Ron said.

“It’s Friday, so no,” Hermione said, “They catch up on paperwork on Friday, so no patients, no risk of having to stay late.”

Hermione put her bookbag down onto the coffee table, pulled the jumper off, set it on top.

“It’s not like you owled them,” Ron said.

“Thanks,” Hermione said.

She went over to the phone, punched in the numbers. Ron stepped in front of her, leaned in, kissed her on the neck. She began to giggle.

“Mum?” Hermione asked.

Ron’s fingers teased her nipples, the hard cock touched her clitoris.

“Was wondering where you were,” Hermione said, her breath baited between the giggles and nerves.

Ron rubbed Hermione’s breasts, his face against her neck, and could hear the other end.

“Athens,” Linda replied, “What’s wrong?”

“Hello,” Ron said.

“Who else is there?” Linda asked.

“It’s Ron, being Ron,” Hermione said, “It helps, school’s being … stressful, and I sorta wanted to talk to you about it.”

Ron’s hands moved to her sides, rubbed and massaged.

“While your father’s about to take me out for dinner,” Linda said, “We can put the reservation on hold.”

“Not over the phone,” Hermione said.

“I thought they were leaving Saturday,” Ron said.

“Last minute change of plans,” Linda said, “We left last night, a couple of extra days seemed like a nice idea. Should we come back?”

“No, no,” Hermione said, “I can leave with Harry, especially on the weekends, so next weekend? Like Sunday or the one after?”

“We’ll be back Sunday the twenty seventh,” Linda said, “Sometime in the afternoon, would that work?”

“Yes,” Hermione replied.

“Well, your Dad wants me to get ready,” Linda said, “See you then, I love you.”

“Love you,” Hermione replied.

Click

Hermione put the phone down. Ron pulled her closer, until her breasts pushed into his chest, her head rested against his.

“So, I do help!” Ron exclaimed.

“Yes, you do,” Hermione said.

“Well, lets take a leaf from Harry and Gia,” Ron said, “Lets see what’s in the kitchen, I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry,” Hermione said.

“Of course, sex works up the appetite,” Ron said.

They went into the kitchen. Ron opened the refrigerator, which was nearly empty.

“Mum and Dad went on vacation,” Hermione said, “I doubt they were planning on you stopping by.”

“I’m not going back to Hogwarts until Monday,” Ron said.

“Your arse still working to hold my wallet?” Hermione asked.

“No, it finally failed, remember?” Ron asked.

“Those aren’t meant to be long term, are they?” Hermione asked.

“Nope,” Ron said, “I got a year out of the last one, but yeah, it’s a goner.”

Hermione glanced at Ron’s hard erection.

“Better idea,” Hermione said, “Be right back.”

Hermione left the kitchen. Ron pushed, sat on the counter of the small kitchen island. Hermione came back.

“And?” Ron asked.

“Ordered for delivery,” Hermione said, “Seemed easier.”

“Good, make the time fly,” Ron said, his eyes surveyed her chest.

“I know how you’re thinking,” Hermione said.

“Interested?” Ron asked.

Pfffpt!

“I need to use—” Hermione started.

“Up here, now,” Ron suggested.

Hermione pushed, sat.

“This isn’t sanitary,” Hermione said.

“Why’d I care about that?” Ron asked.

“You wouldn’t,” Hermione said.

Pfffpt!

“Got an idea,” Ron said, “Essay?”

“What?” Hermione said, “I’m not doing your—”

“It’ll be mind,” Ron said, “Full roll, tonight, on _you_.”

“You’ll last that long?” Hermione asked.

“It’ll be the conclusion,” Ron said, “Be right back.”

Ron went through the dining room, into the study, picked up a roll, an inkjar, and a quill, returned. Hermione hopped off the counter.

“Where are you going?” Ron asked.

“The loo!” Hermione said.

“No, can you hold out?” Ron asked.

“It’s—” Hermione protested.

“Full roll, on you,” Ron said, “I’ll go quick. Back up.”

Pfffpt!

“No I can’t hold out,” Hermione said.

“Hands and knees, up here,” Ron said.

Hermione climbed back onto the counter, her knees near the edge, feet over, and aimed her butt toward Ron.

“Better?” Hermione asked.

Ron laid out the parchment roll, dipped the quill.

Pink, pink with streaks of brown, not her face, but her butt.

Pfffpt!

A quick squirt from her vulva.

“I can’t hold it,” Hermione said.

“Don’t hold it,” Ron said, “Show it, to me.”

Another short squirt of yellow hit the counter.

“You’re serious?” Hermione said, “I’m not some animal!”

“Yes we are, the finest sort,” Ron said, “It’s part of the essay, must describe it.”

She’d disagree, consider it disgusting to even show, but I disgree with her, and agree more with Harry. It’s every much a part of her, she’s beautiful even when she’s having to take a dump. We’re all animals, she’s no different, and I accept what I’m about to see, I know what’s coming.

Pfffpt!

Hermione’s shower began in full, the jet of yellow that pummeled the counter top, while more gas passed and the anus dilated open. Brown sludge crept out at first, pushed, before it launched itself and the droppings came out fast.

Plop! Plop!

Ron smelled it, as the turds fell onto the floor below.

Her mind’s beautiful, always is, and so is she. It might not be considered as miraculous as a mother giving birth, but its still a relief, still something that she does, and seeing it makes me feel better. At a certain point, you accept the person, even in what they can’t control, because that’s part of the package. I love her, I accept her, I love to see any part of her move, and watching her taking a dump, just a reminder that we’re both very much alive.

“What are you writing?” Hermione asked, her vulva still dripping.

Ron, though, grabbed a sponge from the sink, rinsed it, and brought it over. Ron worked her crack, worked the sponge around the pinkness, wiped at the brown stains, wiped it clean. He moved it toward the vulva.

“Don’t!” Hermione said, “You have to use a different one, I don’t want an infection.”

“Oh,” Ron said, as he reached into the sink for the other sponge. He rinsed that one, brought it over, began to wipe inward.

“This isn’t something I need help with,” Hermione said.

“It’s something I _want_ to help with,” Ron said.

“Don’t doubt that,” Hermione said.

Ron moved the sponge, began to wipe up the yellow liquid on the counter.

“Not doing more?” Hermione asked.

“Do I need to lap it up?” Ron asked.

“No,” Hermione said.

Ron squeeze the sponge over the sink, rinsed it, and wiped a bit more, until the counter was clean, again. Hermione moved, sat on the edge, legs dangled off.

“I’ll deal with the crap…later,” Ron said, as he pushed himself up to sit next to her, his balls hung over the edge.

“You watched me…” Hermione said.

“I asked for it,” Ron said.

“You certainly did,” Hermione said.

“You’re more than just your mind,” Ron said, “Always have been, always will. And I was…curious. I loved it.”

“Wasn’t expecting that,” Hermione said.

“Disgusting, but I love you,” Ron said, “Should I continue the essay?”

“Maybe—” Hermione started.

Knock! Knock!

Hermione got off the counter, went toward the front door. Ron followed. She opened the door, handed the man forty pounds.

“Keep the change,” Hermione said as she grabbed the bags.

“Ta,” the man said, walked away.

Hermione brought the bags into the kitchen, avoided her pile, and set the bags of white cartons onto the counter.

“Clean that up,” Hermione said, “You’re the one who insisted.”

“Yeah,” Ron said.

Ron grabbed some paper towels, used them to grip the remnants, and carried them. He kinda had second thoughts about the act earlier. However, the deed was done, so he carried the pile to the bathroom, dropped them into the toilet, and returned to the kitchen. He grabbed a sponge, wiped the tiled floor.

“Some garlic chicken, sweet and sour pork,” Hermione said, “Even wonton soup.”

They sat cross–legged on the counter, faced each other. Hermione reached over, felt the foreskin on Ron’s softening penis, the erection stiffened.

“Ta,” Ron said as he grabbed a fork, worked on the container of garlic chicken.

“You—” Hermione started.

“It’s been ready for hours,” Ron said, “Simply wondered if it’ll get any action.”

“That’s all I am to you?” Hermione stammered.

“No, no!” Ron said, “I’ll wait it out. Still, good idea to get away from school.”

“I’ll give you that,” Hermione said.

Burp!

“That’s me,” Ron said.

They worked more on the containers, eating, with Ron taking more than Hermione.

“Finally,” Hermione said, “Dining table?”

“What about dessert?” Ron asked.

“Dessert?” Hermione said, “I never ordered—”

“We’ll do this,” Ron said as he grabbed the chocolate syrup.

“No ice cream, I checked,” Hermione said.

“Just lean back,” Ron said.

Ron got off the counter, helped her lean back. He drizzled the syrup over the folds, opened up the petals, and it went in.

“What?” Hermione stammered.

“This,” Ron said, getting onto his hands and knees, onto the counter. He leaned down, brought his tongue to her skin, began to lick at the chocolate. A bit of saltiness came to his tongue as Ron licked inward, around the hairy opening, inward.

“I guess,” Hermione muttered.

Ron licked inward, he smelled the chocolate, it overrode the normal musk, as he worked inward. He felt the wall, the one he normally felt with his cock, instead, his tongue was exploring. His left fingers teased the clitoris while his right held the passage open. Ron moved his tongue in and out, licked, teased, kept tasting that musk, the one he’d become accustomed to. His own cock twitched in anticipation, of what he was tasting as his tongue kept at it. A tremor in the wall, she sighed, as he felt her start to contract and bear down.

“Okay, dessert,” Hermione said.

Ron moved forward, knees around her. She simply grinned as he touched his hard cock to her, smiled as he pushed in. Ron leaned forward, still over her, his excited cock in her, and he kissed her. Carefully, he flexed, his hard cock moved inside. She breathed deeply as his tongue entered hers, all the while he slid. He felt the contractions on his shaft, a shaft that was eager, and began its spasms. Ron held his pubic hair against hers, the shaft immersed, as he felt his release.

“Feeling better?” Ron asked.

“You are,” Hermione said.

Ron pulled out his cock, moved back up to sit on his heels, massaged her breasts.

“Is the hot tub ready?” Ron asked.

“Go and check,” Hermione said, It’ll take a moment for me to even want to move.”

Ron went to the dining room, out the sliding glass back door, went into the fading evening onto the deck. Ron pulled the cover off the tub, the water was idle. He dipped in.

“Burr!” Ron said as he started to shiver, his scrotum retracted fast, goosebumps went up his skin.

Ron pushed back up on the ledge, sat on the edge, the balls tight enough that they didn’t dangle over the edge, and he brought his legs up, feet to the ledge. Ron knew the water was too damn cold, but he didn’t see where the fire was to be lit. He knew things were getting to Hermione, she needed a calming voice, even sought her parents, though they were unavailable.

“You didn’t turn it on?” Hermione asked a few minutes later as she came out.

Ron shook his head. She dipped her hand into the water.

“Very cold,” Hermione said.

Hermione fiddled with a couple of knobs and a couple of switches. Lights came on, jets of water turned the calm surface into a myriad of turbulent bubbles.

“Where do you light the fire?” Ron asked.

Hermione shook her head, came up, stepped on the wooden railing, around to squat next to Ron.

“It’ll take a few minutes to heat up,” Hermione said, “And thank you for trying to make me feel better, it sort of works.”

“It’s only been—” Ron counted on his fingers “—month and a half. So far, somebody tried to kill Harry. When that failed, kept up rumors, set us up on murder charges, and how soon until it’s rumored that you and Professor Snape—”

“You wouldn’t,” Hermione snapped.

“It’s quite clear somebody’s after Harry,” Ron said, “And we are standing right next to him. Heck, I supposedly held that Ash kid down while Harry supposedly raped him. We’re in this together, with Harry, and it’s more of a mess than you taking a crap.”

“You’re an expert in _that_ ,” Hermione said.

“Meanwhile, because of the rumors, nobody believes us, nobody supports us,” Ron said, “It’s making school miserable. It’s enough to make us nutters.”

Ron dipped his toes into the water, felt the warmer water, and went in.

Splash!

“Hey!” Hermione said.

“Oh, sorry, I was about to get in,” Ron said.

“You!” Hermione gave him a quick push to the side.

Ron went under the water for a moment, came back out across from Hermione, and sat. Hermione slipped in. Ron’s feet went beneath her buttocks, she lifted her legs. Ron pulled her feet close, set them to either side of his genitals. Her toes felt, explored, before the feet simply surrounded his returning erection.

“That’s helping you?” Ron asked.

“It’s certainly helping you,” Hermione replied.

“Sure Gia’s doing the same with Harry,” Ron said, “Likely the only reason Harry’s still at Hogwarts.”

“Pardon?” Hermione asked, her eyes on Ron.

“Think about it,” Ron said, “It’s a commute, he’s not hearing it outside of Hogwarts, it’s a break for him. I mean, sure, we could tell everybody he’s commuting, not even at Hogwarts for half the stuff, but Rita Skeeter would come around, and it’d be in The Daily Prophet in no time; he’d lose, big time, and so would we.”

“And we’re not sure it’d stop the attacks,” Hermione said, as she understood Ron’s point of view, “It’d help convince the students that we’re not the culprits, but I’ve got the feeling the aggressor would just go back after Harry.”

“At least Dumbledore believes us,” Ron said, “He’s smart enough to know Harry wouldn’t do those things.”

“Occasionally we don’t have proof, yet he still believes us,” Hermione said, “Harry’s got that going for us.”

“Dumbledore can tell if you’re being truthful,” Ron said.

“Well, he has been a teacher for a century,” Hermione said, “Suppose it’s natural to tell an honest student from a liar when the dog eats the homework.”

“Huh?” Ron asked.

“Muggle expression,” Hermione said.

Hermione moved, sat next to Ron, leaned back into him, the water now hot as it foamed on the surface. Ron wrapped his arms around her, the nipples pushed into his arms. Her right hand rested on top of his hard cock, the thumb pressed against his slit. Ron let himself go, the bladder released.

“You’re peeing!” Hermione snapped.

“Sorry,” Ron said, “Didn’t think to ask if you wanted to watch. I’ll do better next time.”

“Hmph!” Hermione said.

“I’m relaxing,” Ron said.

“That part’s obvious,” Hermione said.

“I prescribe a week of this, sleeping in your bed,” Ron said.

“We’ve got school,” Hermione said, “Besides my parents—”

“A week in Athens?” Ron said, “I think your parents could use somebody checking up on the place every night.”

“Offering?” Hermione asked.

“Got the same authorization that Harry does,” Ron said, “Give it a try, sleep in your bed for a week.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Hermione said.

“Give it some good rest,” Ron said, “That way you can come up with a way to catch them in the act, show the others we’re being framed.”

“You’re—” Hermione said.

“Well, we have to,” Ron said, “Trouble is, we need to catch them, set a trap for them, but for that, we need to know when and where they’d be.”

“You can help with it too,” Hermione said, “Your brain’s—”

“Preoccupied with something that concerns us both,” Ron said.

“My left boob takes up your left brain while my right occupies your right?” Hermione retorted, sarcastically.

“No, something else,” Ron said, not wanting to divulge exactly how much Psychiatry books he’s been reading, “Never mind.”

They both sat there, relaxed, eyes up at the stars that were peeking through the thinning clouds above.

* * *

Harry snored, still on Gia’s lap, in the hot tub on the roof deck at 26 Oak. She caressed his ears when Richard came out, nearly starkers. Richard had his dress white shirt on, unbuttoned, and just that shirt, so his brown pubic hair, his soft penis hung beneath.

“He’s—?” Richard asked.

“Can you help carry him?” Gia replied.

“Sure,” Richard said.

Richard moved over, grabbed Harry’s feet. Gia held beneath the arms, and stood. Harry’s buttocks cleared the deck, the floor, with inches to spare, as they carried him back in, onto Gia’s bed. Gia followed Richard back out of her bedroom, into his.

“Sorry about earlier,” Gia said.

“What about it?” Richard asked, as he turned around.

“I was…aggressive, out of line,” Gia said, “I am curious, though.”

“You were a bit…grabby,” Richard said.

“Perhaps it’s Harry’s influence,” Gia said, “I suddenly had that urge, had to be satisfied.”

“That’s what Harry’s for,” Richard said.

“It’s not always enough,” Gia said, “Fortunately, Nate swung by, helped.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Richard said.

“Look, I do love you too, you’re kind, you’re sweet,” Gia said, “I am curious, so if you’re interested, just ask.”

“Thanks,” Richard said, “But no thanks.”

“It is handsome,” Gia said, her eyes on that soft todger, “Don’t let anybody persuade you to cover up.”

“Ta,” Richard said as he blushed.

Gia went back to her bedroom, sat on the bed, and rubbed Harry’s feet.


	43. Shopping

Ash woke Saturday morning to fingers tickling his foreskin, beneath the blanket. Both Gale and Buck grinned. Ash pushed the blanket off, both hands moved before he could see. They were still in the Forbidden Forest, beneath a fair blue sky, thought the trees swayed above, around the small pond that they had camped around.

“Got another jar?” Gale asked Buck.

“Yeah,” Buck said, reached into his bookbag, pulled out Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment , but this was different label, marked Party Edition, Animal Style . “Maybe a mixup?”

“We’re using it,” Gale said, as he grabbed the jar, opened it.

Gale quickly began to paint Ash’s scrotum and stiffening dick with it. Gale painted liberally, all around Ash’s crotch.

“Stand up,” Buck said.

Ash stood, next to these two on the other blanket, as Gale continued. His anus and his buttocks were coated in it, before Gale handed the jar to Ash. Buck got onto his knees, while Ash sat cross–legged. Ash studied the silky white skin that went down to the penis, the warm balls dangling loose. Ash leaned in, kissed the lumps, his own todger grew in excitement. Ash took the brush, began to paint.

“Hold it,” Gale said to Buck.

Ash, though, ignored that comment, and held Buck’s soft, sensitive skin, painted it in the palm of the hand. Each stroke coaxed the sausage a bit further, as Buck’s cock stiffened in Ash’s hand. Ash pulled the foreskin back, painted beneath it, on the glans, and kissed it. Ash painted as much as Gale had of him, on the scrotum, behind the scrotum, on the inner thighs, above the base of the cock above the creases toward the naval. Buck turned, and Ash got the hips before the buttocks came to view. Ash stared at the pinkness in the anus, as he brushed it.

“Wait your turn,” Gale said.

“What’s he doing?” Buck asked.

“Salivating,” Gale said, “Wants me to bang his arse.”

Ash shook his head, as it came back to him, the sense of violation that had occurred, uncertain if he was merely overcompensating with Buck and Gale. Ash’s hand trembled, when Gale took the brush from Ash, finished painting Buck. Ash sat, knees up. Gale handed the jar to Buck, who knelt and began to paint Gale’s genitals. Ash wept.

“Sorry?” Buck asked.

“I..sorry,” Ash muttered.

“You’re…” Gale sat next to Ash, “We fucked, so I think I know you.”

Ash snorted, he could remember.

“Come on,” Buck said as he squatted in front of Ash, faced him.

“Thursday?” Gale asked.

Ash nodded.

“I’ll murder Potter—” Gale started.

“No, it wasn’t Harry,” Ash said, “First time I met him, he tried to teach me to fly.”

“We remember,” Gale said.

“I grabbed his dick,” Ash said, “Totally an accident, I was too scared to do anything else. I panicked, made an excuse, Kermit, but it calmed me. Touching his hard dick calmed me enough that I could be on the broom, with him. That’s how it started, and he wasn’t easy with it. I’d touch him again, and again. Oh, the look on his face—priceless. I had already started Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment when I found that girl—Andy was her name.”

“I didn’t hear about this,” Gale said.

“She was wonderful,” Ash said, “For a little while, we had fun, even had sex, and adventure. However, she goes through boyfriends, dumped me just as it was getting interesting, just as my cock began to squirt. I asked Harry, and reluctantly, he did agree to fuck me in the arse—I wanted to feel used, well, I had just broken up. So, that’s why I knew the one who raped me wasn’t Harry, because I knew how the real Harry’s cock feels in the arse. Somebody else raped me, somebody trying to make me think it was Harry, somebody who did fool you two.”

“You’re being…stubborn,” Gale said, “We saw—”

“What you were supposed to see,” Ash said, “However, the truth is, somebody did rape me, somebody else who pushed it in, used me, violated me, without even asking me. With you two, I think I tried to ignore it, but it came back.”

“I still think it was Potter,” Gale said, “However, you matter more than castrating that bastard.”

“Ouch,” Buck said as he suddenly guarded his genitals with his hands.

“Do we continue?” Gale asked Ash.

“Yeah,” Ash said.

“Let us know if it’s too much,” Gale said.

“Sure,” Ash replied.

Gale pushed Ash onto his back, legs were now in the air, and Ash’s testicles were saddled between the legs. Gale tickled Ash’s buttocks, the sensation made Ash break out into a fit of laughter. A touch to the foreskin.

“No,” Gale said to Buck, “Save that mess for later.”

“What?” Ash asked.

“Have you taken your morning dump yet?” Buck asked.

“No!” Ash quipped.

“Neither have I,” Gale said, quickly moving to his knees, to straddle Ash, buttocks aimed toward Ash’s chest.

Pfffpt!

“No! No!” Ash exclaimed.

Gale’s anus dilated fast, the brown sludge dropped onto Ash’s chest.

“It’s not stopping!” Gale exclaimed, moved until his butt was over the leaf covered ground.

Buck grabbed the jar, read the label.

“Just gimme my orgasm,” Ash said.

“Ain’t happening,” Buck said, “This has been specially formulated—”

“To relieve constipation,” Gale said, brown still dropping from him, “It works.”

“So, it means, this?” Ash asked as he stood. Ash aimed his penis, at Gale’s chest, and the golden stream started.

“I suppose so,” Buck said, “Lay down so I can take a dump on you.”

“I wasn’t planning on this,” Gale said.

“We could go to the Hospital Wing and make a full confession,” Buck said, “Or—”

“We play,” Ash said, “It’ll stink.”

“You’re on,” Gale said as he grabbed Ash’s leg, pulled him down.

Gale’s hard cock began to power–wash Ash’s chest, the yellow sent the brown marks away.

* * *

Gia watched Richard climb the steps, he was breathing heavily, starkers with his brown pubic hair above the soft circumcised todger.

“He’s still asleep?” Richard asked, his eyes on Harry, under the covers.

“Wake up!” Gia said to Harry, she shook him.

Hedwig hooted as Harry’s eyes fluttered open. She flew over, landed on his left arm. Harry’s right felt the feathers, she nipped at him.

“Ow!” Harry exclaimed.

“I’d guess she’d want treats,” Richard said.

“I’ll do it,” Harry grumbled as he crawled out of bed.

Knees parted as he balanced himself upright at the end of the bed, let the loose balls dangle between the legs, and opened the container. He filled Hedwig’s dish, added a treat. Hedwig returned to her perch, nipped at it.

“Hurry up so I can change the sheets,” Gia said.

“Richard, ready?” Harry asked.

“I just ran it,” Richard said, “You know your way, right?”

“Yeah,” Harry grumbled as he left the room.

Harry went down the stairs, while Gia pulled the well stained and damp sheets from the bed.

“He really likes to sleep,” Richard said, he glanced at the puddles on the plastic sheet.

“It’s more like he doesn’t sleep, not well,” Gia said, “Still, I see the whole picture, he’s alright to keep.”

Gia wiped the plastic with the rag, squirted the disinfectant on, and wiped a bit more.

“Let it dry,” Gia said.

She followed Richard out, to his bedroom.

“Were you serious about last night?” Richard asked, his eyes on her nipples.

“Yes,” Gia said, “You’re my friend and I am curious.”

Richard organized a set of clothes on his bed, went for the bathroom, Gia followed. They entered the shower.

“I’m serious,” Gia said, “I am…curious. Sure, I was a bit stimulated last night—like I really, really, wanted to bang.”

“That was obvious,” Richard said as the water poured over them.

“You get cravings, I get cravings,” Gia said, “If you get the desire—”

“I’ve committed myself to Jen,” Richard said as he lathered up, “Please, don’t interfere with that.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Gia said, “Sorry, I thought you wanted a more open relationship.”

“I know that’s what you and Harry have,” Richard said, “Me and Jen, no.”

“Sorry,” Gia said, “I misunderstood.”

“If you need me to,” Richard said, “I’ll stand around while you fantasize and pleasure yourself. That’s as far as I want to take it. Otherwise—”

“I still want to be friends,” Gia said.

“Of course,” Richard said, “Looking is fine, playing with my wiener is Jen’s prerogative.”

Richard finished rinsing, stepped out of the shower, and grabbed a towel. He left while Ron and Hermione came up the steps, both starkers.

“Hi,” Gia said.

“Oh, I haven’t bothered yet,” Ron said as he stepped into the shower, behind her.

Gia felt Ron’s hands massage, work the soap into her, the hard cock pressed against her back.

“He certainly likes Harry’s invitation,” Hermione said.

“Every boy is different,” Gia said, “Some take convincing, others won’t, but I do love Ron here, as Harry loves him.”

“Not quite the same way,” Ron said.

“It’s simply…beautiful,” Gia said, “No other way to put it.”

“Jealousy—it’d tear us apart,” Ron said, “We can’t afford it, especially now.”

“Glad you’re over it,” Hermione said.

“As you ought to be,” Ron said, “But if it helps, let you sleep with Harry tonight, on your bed.”

“My bed,” Gia said.

“Okay, your bed,” Ron said, “And we’ll sleep on hers. Okay Hermione?”

“I’ll think about this,” Hermione replied.

Ron shut the water off, used a towel to dry Gia. He ran the cloth across her skin, over the large bosoms, and tapped his hard cock against her thigh.

“Later,” Gia said.

“What?” Ron asked.

“Harry’ll be back shortly,” Gia said, “Have fun with him.”

Hermione glanced at Gia.

“Lets go out,” Gia said as she walked into her bedroom, she grabbed her purse, “A little something for us.”

Hermione nodded and followed Gia down the stairs. Hermione grabbed a leg wallet, fastened it to her ankle, her wand holstered beneath the fabric. Both left the house, starkers.

“So, what’s this about you hitting up every guy?” Hermione asked.

“I totally understand why Harry’s stressed,” Gia said, “His…quality goes down, though. I just got to that point where I needed … a normal guy, one who’s alright. Fortunately, found one yesterday, so I’ll be good for a while.’

“And I just walked out the door—” Hermione started.

“Perfectly matched outfits,” Gia said.

They laughed, and quickly approached Debenham’s on High Street, a clothing retailer. They entered, went into the shirts section in front.

“Is it ever going to end?” Gia asked as she held up a light orange midriff shirt.

Hermione sighed, went further into the racks of clothes, toward the jackets.

“Harry comes home and he’s in a nervous wreck,” Gia said, “Very clingy, not that I mind him doing the housework starkers.”

“Kristen’s okay with that?” Hermione asked as she compared a longer brown jacket to a shorter one.

“It gets clean,” Gia said, “No, I’ve been trying to use Richard’s hot tub to coax Harry, but he’s become a real prick about it. Finally, I had to hold his todger hostage before I could finally get him to spill.”

“Good trick,” Hermione bemused as she compared a leather jacket to a jumper of similar color. “Did you—?”

“Just squeeze it tight and make em swear on it,” Gia said, “He was too wound up to let him in, so I made him wank instead. He confessed to the troubles—not his fault, of course, still, it is stressing him out.”

They moved over to lingerie. Gia held up a lacy, revealing, brassiere.

“Ron suggested we escape school as much as possible,” Hermione said, “As much of a prat and dimwit he tends to be, he can come up with clever suggestions, from time to time.”

“Nothing further on this minister?” Gia asked.

“Usual,” Hermione said, “He did campaign against corruption, but he’s so blinded by his zeal that he—why use a flyswatter when you’ve got a grenade?”

“And ignore the casualties,” Gia said.

“Like tossing a person into a river,” Hermione said, “If they float or survive, they must be a witch, otherwise, innocent and let God sort it out.”

“My bedroom door is always open,” Gia said.

Hermione pulled up a pair of ruby red panties, with clever stitching across the front.

“Why are we bothering here?” Hermione said, “We’re starkers, the boys always want us starkers, no lingerie necessary!”

“Bad idea, especially if Ron sees it,” Gia said, as she had second doubts, “They’d take lingerie, but I suppose Ron would see it as spending money.”

“Harry’s perpetual frustration with Ron,” Hermione said.

“Starkers is cheap, no reminder necessary,” Gia said, “His family lost their home, likely better to not bring it up.”

“I admit there are times this’d be more desirable, you know, when I don’t feel like being starkers, not quite yet,” Hermione said.

“That’s where we’re different, Hermione,” Gia said, “You want them to see your mind first, to make sure they know that before you acquiesce, before you’re turned on. I enjoy the flirt. So, yesterday, as I was swimming, seeing Nate encouraged me. I watched that butt move, and, well, just the right angle, that gorgeous stiffy and I started to lust. It didn’t let go until Nate came over and sealed the deal. And Harry, he didn’t feel right, so I left him out. Hopefully, he’ll be up for it tonight.”

“You promised to switch places,” Hermione said.

“So I did, I did,” Gia said, “So you do like the deal.”

“I do,” Hermione said, “Harry’s been in my life as much as Ron, it’s nice to experience both.”

“And we have them _both_ ,” Gia said, “No squabbles?”

“No,” Hermione said.

“I do need some new blouses for school,” Gia said, “Help me pick them out.”

They headed for the next section of racks.

“You’re not starkers there either?” Hermione asked.

“You at Hogwarts?” Gia asked.

“No,” Hermione replied.

“I’m dressed too,” Gia said, “Except for gym and swimming.”

They kept shopping.

* * *

Ash’s stomach wrenched from the stench, hurled again, his vomit added to the cesspool forming next to the pond. His skin coated in brown.

“You lost,” Gale said, similarly coated.

“Not by much,” Buck said, “I…I…”

Be—beleach!

“Have we stopped—I meant that other jar?” Ash asked.

“I’m not turned on by this,” Gale said.

Ash walked around the pond, waded in, washed as much off as he could. Gale and Buck followed.

“Go back inside?” Buck asked.

“But we’re naked here,” Gale said, “I like being starkers with you two.”

“I know of a place,” Ash said, “Generally avoided, so we’d be left alone.”

Ash found his clothes, put on his damp briefs, the shirt, the trousers. Buck and Gale did the same. They grabbed their bookbags, went for the path, and left the forest.

“Best night of sleep ever,” Gale said.

“It was fun,” Ash said.

“Over it? Better?” Buck asked.

“One is never over with it,” Gale said, “It’s a lifetime of pain.”

“Friends, friends are what I need,” Ash said, “Thank you.”

They returned to the castle, entered. Gale followed, up the spiral stairs, to the seventh floor corridor, where Buck gave the password before Ash and Gale reached the portrait. However, Ash and Gale followed in.

“Hey, hey!” Finnigan announced, “See what I have?”

Finnigan came over with three sky blue toffees.

“What are these?” Gale asked.

“What are these, what are these, he asks,” Finnigan said, “Not the cure to our problems, but it does solve one symptom, seeing it. Take these, and you can ignore them, not even see them.”

“See who?” Buck asked.

“Whoever you don’t want to see,” Finnigan said, “Well, these are tuned to those prats all of us would rather not see.”

“Go ahead, take them,” said Dean Thomas, “Haven’t seen them all day.”

“Hawking your Blinder Potions?” Ginny asked.

“I didn’t brew these, I ordered them,” Finnigan said, “They need to try the first batch, no side effects so far.”

“I know what you’re worried about,” Thomas said, “What if they come after you? Fortunately, your adrenaline will cancel its effects, lets you handle and report the situation, and it’ll turn back to normal in no time.”

“I know, they only last a day,” Finnigan said, “You’d have to take more.”

Gale and Buck took a toffee.

“Ash?” Buck asked.

Ash shook his head, bolted for the stairs. Buck and Gale followed as Ash ran up the stairs, past the First Years’ up to the sixth year boys’ dormitory.

“Here, this is where you were thinking?” Buck stammered.

“They’re not around, they’re hiding, from us,” Ash said, “They do it on the weekends, better than we can do ourselves, nobody else comes up here, not often at least. Two unoccupied beds—” he pointed at Harry’s and Ron’s four posters “—and a table—” He pointed “—to do our homework, a table that’ll have food at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It’s just about perfect, and it’s a dormitory, so we’re even allowed to be starkers.”

Ash pulled his shirt, dropped his trousers, stood starkers before them.

“It’s not a big shower like Hufflepuff,” Ash said, “It’s bigger than ours Buck.”

Ash went into the bathroom, into the shower, turned it on. Buck followed a moment later, naked, crowded into Ash.

“If anything happens—” Buck started.

“It won’t,” Ash said, “Worst that could happen, they show back up, Monday morning. Still, I can trust they’d watch my back, protect it.”

Gale came in.

“I don’t like it,” Gale said, “But you’re right, everybody else will avoid it.”

“Now you’re thinking,” Ash replied.

Ash soaped up Gale’s scrotum, felt the todger stiffen up, wanked on it.

“We’re doing that?” Gale stammered, stumbled, as his hard erection began to ejaculate.

Ash saw both of their hands move in fast, teased Ash’s foreskin, massaged, jerked, and he felt the spasms, his drool of semen started up. Gale teased Buck’s, and Buck’s dick joined in, added the contribution to the puddles of white that were being washed away on the tiled floor. They washed, rinsed, and dried as well as they could. They returned to the dormitory, left three trails of puddles as they kept ejaculating. They sat around the table. Ash got out his parchment, a quill, and his Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 .

* * *

Hermione watched Harry, his feet loitered in the hot tub on the roof deck of 26 Oak, in the nighttime air.

“Gia, has she said anything to you?” Harry asked.

She glanced at the todger, hung down in front of the testicles, the foreskin touched the foam of the churning water.

“You need to learn—” Hermione said, “I mean, you’re stressed, we all are. When you come home, let those troubles stay, at Hogwarts, try to not carry them here.”

“That obvious?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said, “Can you relax in here? Let them fade away, here?”

“I suppose,” Harry said.

“Maybe don’t go right for it either,” Hermione said, “You can show me your dick, but unless I’m excited, you’re not getting it in. Maybe…you’ve been very creative before, massaging, that sort, to let it clear your mind before you shove your cock at her, or me.”

“Guess I’ve been a bit of a dick,” Harry said.

“Give it a try?” Hermione asked.

“Sure,” Harry said.

“Just to avoid the stop and because I know it turns you on—” she pulled open the two halves to her vagina, the golden stream came out, the lights of the tub shimmered with a rainbow.

She glanced at Harry’s rapidly stiffening cock.

“Gia spilled—” Harry started.

“You’re dating us both, your idea,” Hermione said, “So, yes, we’ll discuss you.”

“Nothing good,” Harry said.

“Some good, some not so good,” Hermione said as she stood.

Harry followed her, to Gia’s bedroom, where Hermione laid face first on the sheets.

“What should I do?” Harry asked.

“I’ll give you a hint,” Hermione said, “Massage me until you think you need to massage me some more. I shouldn’t have to talk, you’ll understand.”

Harry sat cross–legged next to her. She felt the hands work her shoulder blades first.

Hoot!

“Hi,” Harry said to Hedwig.

Harry worked her shoulder blades a bit more, before the hands moved.

“It’s difficult, you know what we’re up against,” Harry said.

“Hint,” Hermione said, “A naked girl, no reason to stress over that.”

“Of course not,” Harry said as he snickered.

Hermione felt the hands work their way in, the fingers tried to tackle the knots inside her skin.

Pfffpt!

He said nothing about her flatulence, seemed to accept the quiz she was giving him, wondered if he was even worried about the score. Harry kept working, moved to her buttocks. She felt him move, shift, his balls rested on her thigh as he kept massaging, working her, moved downward. His testicles dragged as he worked each thigh, down her calf muscles, to her feet. He turned her over.

“One side done,” Harry said.

Hermione stayed quiet as he came up to her. He lowered himself, planted his lips onto hers, kissed, before his hands worked her front side. She watched those bottle green eyes survey, measure, keep track of her, as he worked her breasts, her arms, her stomach. He worked into the carpet, for a moment, before continuing. Hermione relaxed as he massaged, back down to her feet. He returned to her pelvis, massaged around, in. He worked her labia, her clitoris, and it made her long for him.

“Now,” Harry said.

She felt the tip of his hard erection touch, and thrust inward. He massaged her clitoris as he sunk inward. Harry moved, flexed his hips, and that first thrust sent the wave through Hermione. She felt the sudden onset, wave after wave, telling her that Harry was alright. She felt him hold it still. As she felt the surge of warmth, he collapsed forward. Harry laid on her, his eyes shuttered, and he slept. His hard shaft softened, but remained. She figured it was better to let it go, so she pulled the duvet over them both.

* * *

Ash leaned back against Harry’s four poster, his head still at his knees, as he cried.

“Sorry,” Buck said, “If I don’t report for detention—”

“Go,” Gale said.

“Professor Snape said they’re nocturnal,” Buck said as he dressed. Buck left.

It went back through Ash’s mind, that long and big hard cock ramming itself in him, taking control of him, to use him, to discard him like refuse. It wasn’t Harry—likely would’ve been better if it had been Harry, Ash would’ve understood, but it wasn’t Harry.

“Hey,” Gale said.

Gale knelt before Ash. Ash studied the curves, the lines, the crease of the stomach to the hips, forming the boyish V down to the middle of the crotch. Smooth skin went to the dangling shaft, down to the tight tip of the foreskin, behind were the curves. Stretched skin, the scrotum curved out before rounding out below, each ball with its distinctive lump. Ash reached, his right fingers slipped between the scrotum and the thigh, wrapped itself behind the heirlooms, the thumb latched on in front, held them. Ash glanced up at Gale’s face, a boy eager to lend his most private of parts, with friendship as the only reward.

“I love you too,” Gale said.

“Ta,” Ash said.

The lights went out.

“Not done with you yet,” Gale said.

Ash let go, climbed up onto the bed. Gale slid in next to him. Gale held Ash’s dick, the fingers teased it into an erection.

“I still want to shag a girl,” Gale said.

Ash snorted.

“But, I do love you,” Gale said, “That Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment is tough stuff, but good.”

“Yes, it was good,” Ash replied, felt the fingers toying with his scrotum.

Gale stopped, moved, lifted Ash’s legs upward. Gale lifted the butt. Ash felt the little prick push inward.

“Know the difference?” Gale asked.

“What?” Ash replied.

“You love me,” Gale said.

Ash felt Gale thrust, pull, drill. Gale pulled out, let the legs down, leaned forward. Gale’s hands held their dicks together, until Gale was on Ash, the urethraes pushed against each other. Gale stroked, massaged between them, as he brought the lips to Ash’s. Ash felt it along the ridge of his shaft, the urethrae felt the surging in Gale’s, which sent Ash’s cock into spasms. Ash felt the sticky surge before his own dick began to pump, as Gale ejaculated first. Ash’s followed, joined in the warm, sticky mess, between their stomachs, seep into their navals. Gale moved his head closer, kissed again.

“Our misadventures,” Ash said.

“So, Potter was the first thing in your arse?” Gale asked.

“No,” Ash said, “That girl—she borrowed my butt for shoplifting.”

“Oh,” Gale said.

Gale rolled off, next to Ash. Ash rolled to his side, curled, put his head onto Gale’s chest. He knew the difference, he felt Harry, he had felt the rapist, and he’s felt both Gale and Buck. His arsehole had definitely gotten used. Harry’s was deep, but kind. Gale and Buck, well, they were all eleven so the cocks weren’t supersized, not yet. Ash appreciated his friends, they gave him a sense of normalcy, every time they’d bang, it held him shoulder his burden to another time, kept it at bay.

Gale pulled the covers over them, and Ash went to sleep.

* * *

“I understand you porked a kid,” the Keeper said as he poured himself a Firewhiskey.

“I was hoping to find that Creevy,” the Seeker said, swigging some ice in the cup, “When, suddenly, I saw him running up the stairs, his nice firm little buttocks all exposed, I seized the opportunity. It was admittedly a bit tight, but I think I made my point.”

The Seeker glanced at the crackling fireplace.

“You got lucky that no formal complaint was filed,” the Keeper said, “You perverted little runt!”

“Hey, I’m the one making Potter look bad,” the Seeker said, “This should’ve been bad, really bad, but apparently he refused to squeal.”

“Why didn’t he?” the Keeper asked.

“At first, it didn’t seem quite right, like maybe he didn’t believe,” the Seeker said, “Once I figured out who it was, no worry, this kid’s the silent type, he’s not talking.”

“You got lucky,” the Keeper said.

“He’s not worth the bother,” the Seeker said, “Doesn’t even talk to the teachers, doesn’t have any friends, he’ll be gone by winter and nobody’ll care.”

“Any more plans?” the Keeper asked.

“Yes,” the Seeker said as he palmed a slender object covered in black velvet, “This little beauty ought to keep everybody entertained next week.” He pulled the velvet off.


	44. Dildo

Ash loitered on Harry’s four poster bed in the dormitory Monday morning. Ash was smiling, he had friends who loved him, though they had already left to get ready for the new day, they weren’t keen to be on this particular bed. Ash stayed, felt the silk sheets beneath him, the covers off, the curtains closed, and his morning wood still there, still firm. Ash curled his fingers around his smooth shaft, massaged, pulled on it, let it keep him calm. Here, on Harry’s bed, Ash felt safe, even Gale and Buck felt safe enough with him. Ash easily recalled their fingers teasing his balls, their dicks squirting against his, their sucking on it, and these made him feel better, such that the mood came readily. His dick was eager to relive it too, began to spasm and commit itself.

Thud!

A large mass fell next to Ash; Ash recognized the skin and rolled over, onto Harry. Ash’s hard cock nestled against Harry’s scrotum; unfooled, it continued. Ash, though, trained his blue eyes onto Harry’s bottle green as the hard cock unleashed. Ash ejaculated, the sticky semen pushed onto the front of Harry’s scrotum; Harry’s todger was to the side.

“Ash!” Harry exclaimed at the smiling face.

“Well,” Ron said, standing there starkers, “Not everybody hates you Harry.”

“I can tell,” Harry said, “Done?”

“Yeah,” Ash said as he climbed off Harry.

“He’s in your bed again,” Ron said.

“Nobody else comes here,” Ash said as he sat at the table, “They’re too scared.”

“That bad?” Hermione asked.

“They don’t even want to see you,” Ash said, before he explained Blinder Potions, “They’re being passed out by Seamus Finnigan.”

Ash pulled some strips of bacon, some eggs, from the serving plates, ate.

“That fink!” Ron exclaimed.

“It goes from bad to worse,” Hermione said.

“Meaning?” Harry asked.

“Nobody will remember seeing us,” Hermione said, “No alibis, like they were volunteering them in the first place.”

Ash studied her tits, right in front of him. Small, round, nothing remarkable as far as Ash could tell, though he figured Ron was more hooked by her personality. If there was anything he’s learned, it’s the person behind the organ that mattered, the parts on the outside were just windows into the soul.

“Actually,” Harry said, as he leaned back against the wall, “That’s a good idea you had there Ash, sleeping in my bed.”

“Harry?” Ron asked.

“I’m sure people have noticed I don’t sleep here,” Harry said, “Ash using it from time to time, makes it look slept in, keep it up.”

“Thanks,” Ash said, “Though, why not just tell everybody else what you’ve been doing? It’s the perfect alibis.”

“Would that really help?” Harry said, “They’re not paying attention to what I’ve got to say now. Tell them I’m _commuting_? How soon until my attackers wage their petty little war in the streets back there? No, I’m not telling them, if ever.”

Ash left this dormitory, went down the steps, to his own.

“You did, didn’t you?” Buck asked.

Ash fixed his eyes on the blond haired, chocolate eyed, Buck, already dressed, in the smart Gryffindor tie. A tie that Ash wished was the only thing on Buck, a boy that Ash was now intimately familiar with, a boy that Ash knew exactly which bulge was the todger behind the cloth. Ash stepped closer.

“Ash,” Buck said as Ash’s hard erection touched the cloth, an erection that wanted to play with its friend, “You need to get dressed for class.”

“Grr,” Ash grumbled, went over to his trunk.

Buck patted Ash on the buttocks.

“You want me,” Ash said.

“Of course, of course,” Buck replied, grin on the face, “No ointment either.”

“Grr,” Ash grumbled as he put on his socks first.

Ash had seen Harry do quite fine without clothes, he even did so with Andy, but here, he had to return to the land of the civilized, after some idiot long ago decided to hide it all.

“Determined to hide your dick last?” Buck asked as Ash pulled on his shirt, “I’ll go for that.”

“Glad you like it,” Ash replied.

“It’s…it’s you,” Buck said, “Shall I hold a funeral as you cover it up?”

Ash snorted, laughed, as he pulled up his briefs.

“Yeah,” Buck said as he held the bulge on the briefs, while the trousers approached, “Better outside than in.”

Ash secured his belt, slipped on his shoes, grabbed his bookbag, and went out the door.

“Gale’s worried you’d spill about…you know, us,” Buck said as they went down the stairs.

Ash shook his head.

“That’s what I told him,” Buck said, as they left Gryffindor Tower.

Down more steps, and they approached the History of Magic, when Ash felt the sharp pressure, a pain in his butt.

“Buck!” Ash exclaimed.

“What?” Buck asked.

They entered the classroom, sat at the same table as Gale. Ash felt the buzz, the sensation, up his butt, a vibration along with something stuck in his anus.

“What’d you do?” Ash asked.

“What?” Gale asked, across Buck.

Ash undid his belt buckle.

“Not here!” Buck scolded.

Ash, though, loosened it up, pushed the back down enough for his fingers to slip in behind, to feel down his crack, to hard rubber between his buttocks. Ash felt the vibrations, it felt good, it stimulated his todger to stiffen within his briefs, but his cock was already spent, and merely hurt, as he tried to pull on the rubber.

“It’s stuck,” Ash whispered.

Buck reached down, behind Ash, down the cloth.

“What’d you do?” Buck asked.

Ash leaned further forward as his trousers and briefs dropped, his buttocks exposed. A pair of Ravenclaw girls giggled, watched, as Buck pulled the object out. Buck brought it in front of them, covered in brown stains, a hard rubber dildo was vibrating between Buck’s figners.

“Where’d you get that?” Gale asked as Ash restored his trousers.

“Not mine,” Ash whispered.

“Sure,” Buck said, dismissively.

However, the white rubber dildo shook itself, the brown stains vanished, and it leapt upward. Ash followed it, as it flew upward, before coming down right behind Buck, and burrowed itself down Buck’s trousers.

“One guess,” Buck said.

Ash’s hand beat Gale’s, slipped down the front of Buck’s trousers, both hands felt the stiffening penis beneath the cloth, as Buck’s hard erection formed. A moment later, Ash felt the sticky mess pour out as Buck ejaculated.

“Some toy,” Gale said.

“I didn’t…” Buck muttered.

However, the white rubber shaft flew back into the air. It arched itself, as if sniffing, before it flew at the Ravenclaw girls, both trying to follow Professor Binns. The white rubber dove down, into the girls’ clothes.

“Not mine,” Ash said.

* * *

Harry felt the slither, the vibration as he stood up at the end of that morning’s Defense Against the Dark Arts. He walked cautiously up the steps into the office; Professor Lupin and Tonks were there. A table was in the middle, one covered with plates of food. The vibrations became more intense up his arse.

“Harry?” Ron asked.

Harry dropped his trousers as he bent over.

“What’s—” Harry felt the stub sticking out of his anus, the todger stiffened.

“This isn’t the best idea Potter!” Professor Tonks asked.

“I don’t know where—” Harry started.

“Is this—I overheard, so this is what the rumors are about?” Professor Lupin asked.

Harry unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it off. His hard cock jutted forward beneath his bare chest, the pubic hair cushioned it against his stomach, while it soaked up the vibrations. Ron reached, tried to pull at the vibrator, snapped his hand back.

“Ow!” Ron said, “It’s cursed!”

Harry felt the spasms as much as Professor Tonks seemed entranced by his sudden display of his manhood. Nobody missed as it began to pulse, shot out the long trail of white, as Harry ejaculated in the office, and his semen gathered on the floor.

“What rumor?” Hermione asked.

“That this has been—” Professor Lupin started as the object removed itself from Harry’s butt, “I’ll handle this.”

Wand drawn, a curse shot forth at the hovering dildo, but the dildo evaded.

“Giving everybody—” Ron started.

“A lot of messy knickers,” Professor Tonks said.

Ron moved behind Hermione, her wand drawn. However, the brown stained dildo moved fast, just behind Professor Lupin, and down. His eyes went wide.

“We need a sharper wand,” Professor Lupin said, as he quickly left the office.

“How was it?” Ron asked Harry.

“What’d you think?” Harry snapped as he took a napkin from the table, wiped his dick. “Ask Ginny.”

“Why her?” Ron demanded.

“A Weasley Wizarding Wheezes product out of control?” Harry asked.

“They don’t make that—yet,” Ron said.

“This isn’t funny,” Professor Tonks said, “You don’t know what charms were on that.”

“In a more controlled setting, it’d be fun,” Hermione said.

“Just keep it on a leash,” Harry said

Harry removed his trousers from his ankles, sat on a chair. His butt was now sore, so he put his feet up on edge of the seat of his chair, which rolled him back on his butt, exposed the anus beneath him as it lifted off the wood.

“Harry,” Professor Tonks said.

“I’ll be fine,” Harry replied.

“I wanted to tell you how handsome you are,” Professor Tonks said, “But I’m your teacher, I’m not allowed to tell you that.”

Harry snorted.

“You’re flattering him,” Hermione said, “It’s his favorite outfit.”

Harry glared at her.

“Well, it _is_ ,” Hermione said, “Gia rarely sees you in anything else.”

“True,” Harry replied.

“Can we change the school dress code?” Ron asked.

“No,” Professor Lupin said, as he entered. His clothes were a bit ruffled.

“Did you get it?” Professor Tonks asked.

“I was planning on seeing if the Headmaster could help as it may be a Garvook product he’s familiar with,” Professor Lupin said, “However, it’s Severus’ problem now.”

“Eww,” Harry said.

“Don’t think about it Harry,” Professor Lupin said as he sat at the table.

“No, no,” Harry replied.

“So, where were we?” Professor Lupin asked.

“I accept that Voldemort wants me dead,” Harry said, “How these assaults, murders, and rapes play into it, I’m not sure.”

“You’d be a fool if you weren’t concerned, Harry,” Professor Lupin said, “As innocent as you may be, others are still getting hurt, killed. Every student ought to be concerned.”

“What if I didn’t remain at Hogwarts?” Harry said, “They are, after me, not them.”

“Apart from emboldening your foes,” Professor Lupin said, “I suspect the stage would simply change to somewhere else, and it’d buy the students some security for a short while until Lord Voldemort desired to reclaim Hogwarts—he has reasons other than just you or the Headmaster to lust for this castle. A thousand years of wizarding history, to name one.”

Ron reached for a sandwich, two feet long, steaming hot meatballs between the two halves of the large sandwich roll. He ate, trapped the cheese between his teeth.

“Don’t worry Harry,” Professor Tonks said, “I’m sure Albus Dumbledore will think of something, he always does, always will. In no time, we’ll have iron clad proof of your innocence, and the whole matter resolved, so your classmates will come around.”

“I don’t think so,” Harry said, “Not this time, it feels different, especially with those Blinder Potions.”

“Blinders?” Professor Lupin asked.

“We’ve heard that Blinder Potions are being handed out,” Hermione said.

“They don’t want to see us, nor do I think they want to see us cleared,” Harry grumbled.

“So long as they are legitimately obtained and voluntarily taken, possession is not against the school rules,” Professor Tonks said.

“It bothers me that they are deliberately blinding themselves,” Harry said, “They’re deliberately ignoring the truth. They are falling for it, but how can they be so … gullible?”

“And so history repeats itself,” Professor Lupin said, “The mere suggestion that we’re in dark times is enough to send the average person into a panic. I was still in Hogwarts, I read The Daily Prophet , and the pattern is the same. The denial, the cover–ups, the pretense that everything is alright, because that’s what lands the Minister job security, until the worst breaks loose.”

“It’s the same reason we have Dark Arts in the first place,” Professor Tonks said.

“Choice,” Harry said, “You can’t have freedom without the choice to be dark.”

“That’s rather pessimistic,” Hermione said.

“What else do you do?” Harry said, “Confiscate wands? Restrict them to proscribed charms _only_? Even a levitation charm, at the wrong moment, can do harm.”

“It happened last time, people pretended that it was a lie, a hoax, a myth,” Professor Lupin said, “Believe your delusion until you can believe in it no more, but in the meanwhile, that delusion can prove quite comfortable.”

“Lets go hunting,” Ron said.

Harry snorted.

“As people like to pretend that everything is alright,” Professor Tonks said, “You’ve become the unfortunate scapegoat because it is the simplest explanation for their woes. An out of control teenage wizard doesn’t sound too scary, something that can, indeed, be dealt with by the experts, if that were a correct diagnosis.”

“Unfortunately, it isn’t,” Professor Lupin said, “I’m sorry Harry, you are in for some rough times ahead. Through all this, I fear for you, but I also hope for you, as I suspect your parents would.”

Harry adjusted himself, knees to the edge of the table, while his fingers teased his foreskin. Professor Tonks glanced at this.

“So, you’ve seen one of those before?” Harry asked.

“Likely a Garvook product,” Professor Lupin said.

“Oh—them!” Ron said, before he glanced at Harry, “Provider of adult novelties, located in Knockturn Alley—”

“Formerly of Knockturn Alley,” Professor Lupin said, “They were evicted too.”

“Be thankful, Harry,” Professor Tonks said as she watched him stretched his foreskin.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Your mother wanted to get you circumcised, a family tradition,” Professor Tonks said.

“Glad Aunt Petunia never bothered then,” Harry said, “They’d have to acknowledge me if they did to me like they did to Dudley.”

“James thought you were good enough as you were,” Professor Lupin said, “What convinced Lily?”

“I broke the tie,” Professor Tonks said.

“Thank you, I suppose,” Harry said.

“I prefer them that way too,” Professor Tonks said.

“It’s a muggle thing?” Ron asked.

“Happens both sides,” Professor Lupin said, “Anecdotally, I think muggles do it more often. You’d have to ask Madam Pomfrey to get a better number. It’s not exactly a question on the Hogwarts application.”

Harry retracted his foreskin, ran his finger around the glans.

“Need to take a piss?” Hermione asked Harry.

“Remus, Nymphadora?” asked the green head of Professor McGonagall in the fireplace, “Please come to the Hospital Wing.”

“Who’s hurt?” Ron asked.

“It’s not that,” Professor McGonagall said.

“It was a nice lunch,” Professor Lupin said to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

Harry pulled up his trousers, they left the office.

“Well, I do need to take a piss,” Ron said, “Hermione, bathroom.”

“What?” Hermione asked as she followed Ron and Harry into the third floor boys’ bathroom.

“Just watch,” Ron said as he and Harry stood facing the same urinal, at an angle.

Harry dropped his trousers, as did Ron. Hermione watched their two cocks, beneath their pubic hair, aimed at the urinal.

“What am I looking for?” Hermione asked.

“You’ll see it,” Ron said.

Harry peed first, Ron peed, golden jets out of their slits. They aimed their cocks until the streams crossed.

“You just wanted me to watch you piss!” Hermione snapped.

“Why not?” Ron said as his stream cut out, “It’s more fun with you watching!”

“Suppose you’ll wank too,” Hermione said.

“Lovely idea,” Ron said, “Why wait to later?”

Ron’s hand worked his penis, it stiffened, and he leaned back against the wall. His hand began to stroke.

“I could be in the library,” Hermione said.

“A quickie before classes,” Harry said, pulling his trousers back up, “Why not?”

“Ta,” Ron said to Harry.

“You two!” Hermione snapped.

“He’s a _boy_ ,” Harry said, “See this penis?” He pointed at Ron’s.

Ron leaned forward, arched his back, cock closer to Hermione, before he stumbled. Surge after surge, he ejaculated, and his seed fell to the floor.

“Suppose you need me to wipe!” Hermione snapped.

“Lovely idea,” Ron said.

Hermione grabbed some toilet paper, handed it over.

“You just don’t understand!” Hermione exclaimed.

* * *

“No, no,” Ash grumbled that afternoon.

Gale fixed the green frog’s feet to the shackles, it squirmed, tried to free itself.

“Ash!” Buck snapped.

Ash shook his head, closed his eyes as he knew the knife was near. Ash heard the thrashing, the ribbit.

“Ten points from Gryffindor for ignoring the lesson,” Professor Snape said in his usual greasy voice.

“Ash!” Gale pleaded.

Ash opened his eyes, dozens of frogs on the stands, upside down, as blood dripped from their necks. Ash began to cry, when his rage swelled inside him. Ash bolted from the dungeon classroom, he jumped the stairs, as fast as he could, until he went through the portrait hole, up more stairs, and entered the sixth years boys’ dormitory. Ash stripped, laid on Harry’s four poster bed, and he cried into the pillow. His mind kept picturing Kermit, hanging from one of those, bleeding to death, for a few drops for some potion, and he’d cry a bit more.

“Hey,” Harry said as he flew into the dormitory from the cloudy outside.

Harry landed, Ron and Hermione were next. Ash rolled over onto his back, stayed on the bed, but brought his knees up, legs still spread, and held his balls, between his legs, on the pouch. Harry changed into his Quidditch robe, no underwear beneath. Ron did the same.

“Potions,” Ash said.

“Snape had it in for me the first day,” Harry said, “Never let up.”

“I’ll stay here,” Hermione said.

“Suit yourself,” Ron said.

Ron and Harry left. Hermione, though, stripped, set the clothes next to her bookbag on the table, and came over to Ash. Ash removed his hands, she studied his two lumps.

“Killing frogs,” Ash said.

“It’s a disgusting lesson,” Hermione said, “This helps you, right?” Her right fingers began to massage into the pouch, felt the lumps within his scrotum.

“Yes,” Ash said, “I had a pet frog, killed not too long ago.”

Hermione felt his penis, massaged until it was stiff.

“Got homework,” she said.

Hermione went over to the table, pulled out parchment.

Ash’s hands held onto the railings above him, pulled up, hooked his feet above, and pulled his buttocks up while leaving his back on the bed. Ash knew she saw everything of his, as he caught her glances with his erection between them. Thanks to Harry, Ash was now comfortable with a handful of people seeing it, where the sun didn’t shine, right on his arse, with his balls and hard erection on full display.

“You’ve got homework too,” Hermione said.

“I know,” Ash said.

“Boys, so typical,” Hermione said.

“Later,” Ash replied.

Ron and Harry flew in a while later, both laughing as they barrel rolled, their Quidditch Robes shook themselves off.

“Hitting on my girl?” Ron asked as he stepped close to Ash.

“You don’t own me!” Hermione snapped.

“Boyfriend, girlfriend,” Ron said as he pointed to his pubic hair lined penis, before he pointed at Hermione with her tits on display.

“I’d prescribe a banging,” Harry said.

“Of course you would!” Hermione snapped.

“I’ll see you two—” Harry started as he reached for his Portkey.

“Go with him Ron,” Hermione ordered.

“Pardon, your bed—?” Ron asked.

“Oh, I’ll be using _my_ bed,” Hermione said, “You won’t. I suggest you follow Harry, unless you’d like to use your bed here?”

“No, no,” Ron said.

“You’re welcome to come,” Harry said.

“You’re staring at his—” Ron pointed to Ash’s buttocks.

“Know what he’s capable of that you’re not?” Hermione asked.

“No,” Ron said.

“He’s not constantly foisting this—” she held Ash’s hard erection “—onto me! Now, scram!”

Ron grabbed his wand, his bookbag, held on as Harry activated the Portkey.

“Ta,” Ash said to Hermione.

“Not everybody is interested in sex at the same time,” Hermione said, “Later.”

Hermione gathered her parchment, quills, before she activated Ron’s Portkey and vanished.

Ash remained there, dangling his rear in the air, the parted buttocks kept his anus well ventilated.

“There you are,” Gale said a few minutes later as he entered the dormitory, Buck behind him, both still dressed.

“Told ya,” Buck said.

“You’re done with the assignment? Gale asked.

“No,” Ash replied.

Gale dropped his trousers first, let the intact penis dangle. Buck stripped faster, stood starkers next to the bed, Gale came up. Ash reached over, held Buck’s soft penis, felt it stiffen.

“Look, sorry,” Gale said as his fingers started to tease Ash’s anus, “I shouldn’t have…it wasn’t right after what I did to you. I’m sorry.”

Gale leaned over. Ash released, let his butt flop onto the bed. Gale’s tongue touched the tip of the foreskin, licked as he brought his mouth over, let Ash’s hard erection enter. Ash retracted Buck’s foreskin, stared at the slit.

“Gale explained it,” Buck said, “We’ve got another essay, due Wednesday.”

Ash felt Gale’s chin against his balls, the shoulders pushed against his thighs, while he touched Buck’s glans. Ash traced Buck’s foreskin, while Gale’s tongue kept massaging.

“Sorry I couldn’t stand it,” Ash said.

Ash’s finger traced the length of Buck’s hard cock, about a foot away from his face.

“Snape’s a bastard,” Buck said, “Um…”

Ash’s hand moved to the base of Buck’s hard shaft, the thumb pressed inward.

“I need to—” Buck started.

“Go ahead,” Ash said, his hand held tightly.

Ash understood what Buck was implying, he felt the heat starting to creep along, however, Ash also knew Harry routinely wet the bed, so the risk was minimal. Ash thought quick, pulled Buck a bit closer, let Buck’s hard cock enter the mouth. Ash sucked like a baby on a teat, as the rich bitter hot liquid began to pour.

“Does this—?” Buck stammered between fits of giggles.

Salty and strong, Ash swallowed it, chugged it down, taking care not to spill a drop, not get it onto the sheets. Ash choked, tried to inhale as his own spasms started.

“Alright?” Buck asked.

Ash pulled away, let the piss get his face as he coughed, and Gale upped the tempo. Ash felt the surge, the release, into Gale, before Gale tried to stand right up.

“Ow!” Gale muttered.

“Feeling better?” Buck asked Ash.

“No,” Ash replied, “I need to—”

Ash darted out of the bed, into the bathroom, to the toilet, and he bent over.

Be—beleach!

Ash vomited, sent the liquid back up, out the throat.

“Hospital Wing,” Gale stated.

“No!” Ash protested.

“Something he drank,” Buck said.

“That’s what you two—?” Gale stammered.

“Yes,” Ash said as he stepped into the shower. “Clean and that bloody essay.”

* * *

“Is this straight?” Nate asked.

“Gia!” Tracey snapped.

Nate was squatting at the edge of the swimming pool, butt to the ankles, legs spread enough to give clearance between. Nate’s tall figure bent over, his head bent with his eyes staring at the hard erection jutting outward beneath the thighs, the tight pouch of his balls hung beneath.

“He’s asking us!” Gia said.

Gia stared down the circumcised shaft, the slit front and center.

“Close enough,” Gia said, “Don’t worry about it.”

“Gia!” Tracey snapped as Gia held the shaft.

“What do you think?” Gia asked Tracey.

Gia watched the girl in her two piece bikini, touch, hold Nate’s hard cock.

“It’s okay,” Tracey said.

“Blow him,” Gia whispered into Tracey’s ear.

“What?!” Tracey stammered.

“Right now, right here,” Gia whispered, “See if he swims better afterwards.”

Tracey leaned forward, put her tongue to the slit.

“Um…” Nate muttered.

Several catcalls echoed in the room as Tracey began to let the glans into her mouth.

“You!” Nate said to Gia.

“You’re welcome,” Gia said, grin on her face.

Gia floated backward, aware Nate’s eyes were on her bare tits while Tracey worked his hard cock. Gia studied the expression on his face, the mix of pleasure, excitement, surprise, and embarrassment, knew the mix of emotions in him as the testosterone flowed beneath his skin. Nate kept his focus on Gia, which Gia enjoyed. She saw the eyes flinch, perhaps he realized the nearby lanes had also stopped, that his genitals had suddenly become the center of attention.

Applause as Nate sighed, his face changed, as he tumbled forward.

Splash!

Nate floated back up, smile on his face.

“Thank you,” Nate said to Tracey.

“You!” Tracey pointed at Gia.

Gia came back, stood. Nate turned over, pushed off, and floated down the lane on his back, casually kicking in a frog like manner.

“He’s happy,” Gia said.

“Clearly!” Tracey said, “You attract nearly every boy—”

“Flirt!” Gia said, “All you have to do is flirt and flatter their todger, and it’s honey into whatever trap you desire.”

“It’s obvious that you—” Tracey said, as her eyes glanced up, “—speaking of which, another.”

Gia glanced over, saw Harry, with his black pubic hair, and Ron with his red, come into the pool. Ron hung back while Harry came over to her, both of their todgers began to stiffen.

“What do you want?” Gia asked Tracey, “Settle that question, and you’ll get what you want. Me, I love it when boys treat me well, and I’ve found some, but I don’t claim ownership. And when I need something vibrating in my cunt, I’ve got plenty of options.”

“What’s that about?” Harry asked.

Gia accepted the hand, and Harry helped her out of the pool.

“Let’s just say it gets noticed when I’ll help any respectable bloke have a good time,” Gia said.

“It’s uncalled for,” Harry said as they began to leave the pool, onto the road under mostly cloudy skies.

“Calm down,” Gia said, “What’s the story Ron?”

Gia glanced at Ron’s thick hard erection swaying beneath the red pubic hair.

“Hermione’s being Hermione,” Ron said, “Either here or stay at Hogwarts.”

“ _St. Mary’s_ if any name’s to be used,” Harry said.

“Sorry,” Ron replied.

“I love that outfit,” Gia said.

“Um…thanks,” Ron said.

Gia could see both of them, starkers. Like Nate, these boys were beautiful, their cocks were accessories to the pleasure they could provide. Sure, she knew it was shallow, vain, but to see the cute boys get stiffies, to have the handsome boys show her their gorgeous cocks in her presence, reinforced a notion of beauty, the only sort of beauty that really mattered—it bolstered her confidence in going starkers herself, with her own flesh and features on public display.

“I wouldn’t be starkers without you,” Harry said to Gia.

Gia wrapped her arms around their necks as they walked, Harry to her left, Ron on her right.

“How was it today?” Gia asked.

“Different,” Harry said.

Ron broke out in laughter.

“What?” Gia asked.

“Oh, it was definitely _different_ ,” Ron said.

“Tell me,” Gia said.

“At home,” Harry replied.

“Okay, you owe me,” Gia said.

“Not fit for a general audience,” Harry said as he glanced around the other pedestrians, the motorists.

“Says the one who’s starkers,” Gia said.

“Yeah, me,” Harry said.

They returned to 26 Oak, went up to the roof deck. Gia got into the hot tub, felt her breasts immerse themselves into the heat.

“Stop,” Gia said to Harry and Ron, “I want details on different.”

“In the tub,” Harry said.

Gia rested her head against the edge, Ron knelt on the ledge above her, his genitals became the center of her view. She saw the billowing red pubic hair, both balls hanging loose above her, the nearly soft penis with the foreskin retracted and the slit exposed.

“I want to hear it,” Gia said.

“Need to piss—” Ron started.

“I’ll handle it,” Gia said, “Tell me.”

“Harry found out about it first,” Ron said.

Gia studied the veins on the base of Ron’s scrotum.

“A dildo, an enchanted dildo,” Harry said, before he described it, the actions.

“Sounds useful,” Gia said.

Gia watched the droplet form at Ron’s slit.

“Take a piss if you want,” Gia said.

“Oh, yeah, forgot,” Ron said.

Gia watched the jet power out of Ron’s slit.

“Suppose I could ask Fred and George for one,” Harry said.

“You’re buying from them, aren’t you?” Ron asked, still pissing into the water next to Gia.

“It’s good customer service,” Harry said, “And I admit to being a bit biased, though, don’t mistake this, they earn their money.”

Gia reached up, felt Ron’s balls dangling right above her, around the gap between them and the legs. She wanted to change the topic, get him to want to change the topic.

“Don’t shave these,” Gia said.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Ron said, taking the bait, “You’re shaved.”

“Hair does you good,” Gia said.

She reached up, felt Ron’s bush, watched his shaft stiffen above her. She could see his chest, his nipple, his face above those, however, her eyes were on the ridge that ran from his tip into the pouch of his scrotum. She imagined stroking that hard flesh, letting it seltzer as he’d like it to do, but she had a better idea; she’d have to save it for later.

“Can we come in?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Gia said.

Ron moved up, stepped into the tub, and splashed water onto Harry. Harry splashed some at Ron. Quickly, they exchanged glances, and together, they splashed it toward Gia.

“Oh, I’m mental!” Ron said, “She _wanted_ to see it.” Ron stepped, knelt on the bench to Gia’s right, his dick was inches away from and above her

“Yeah,” Harry said, as he knelt on the bench to her left.

To her right and left, two cocks, to stiffening dicks, that she held. Both pairs of balls hung there, ready for her to look at the wet hairs on each scrotum. Both of them took a hand, rubbed her breasts, Ron massaged her right, while Harry teased her left. It became a tough choice, Harry’s longer shaft, or Ron’s thicker, but both eager to please. She considered it, and she liked their presenting themselves, using both seemed out of the question. Thus, she weighed it, Harry had satisfactions the previous evening in her and Ron was the guest.

“Ron,” Gia said.

“Kiss my arse,” Ron said to Harry, as Ron moved to stand between Gia’s legs.

“Your todger could go there,” Gia said to Harry.

“Ta,” Harry said, quickly moving behind Ron.

“Blimey!” Ron said as he hooked her legs over his shoulders.

Gia snickered at the expression on Ron’s face, the one that hinted that something had just gone up his arse.

“Ron?” Gia asked.

“I’m ready,” Harry said, “Get into position.”

“Of course, of course,” Ron replied.

Gia felt the tip touch, the fingers that teased her clitoris as the thick shaft pushed inward. Ron started with a slow drill; she understood why as she could hear Harry’s balls colliding with Ron’s.

“Don’t make me regret this,” Gia said.

“Of course not,” Ron said. It took Ron several more moments to get into the rhythm, in sync with Harry’s thrusts. “Oh…oh…”

Gia felt the extra surge of warmth as Ron held himself in, pulled out a softening dick with dew clinging to his tip. Harry, though, moved, crouched on a bench. Harry’s left fingers worked Gia’s clitoris, worked inward.

“That really worked on you,” Harry said to Ron.

“Yeah, no control,” Ron said.

Harry massaged his cock, slowly, until Gia felt the urge to bear down, began to orgasm. Harry sped up, and Gia watched the white shoot out, dribble from the slit of his hard erection. Harry sank to sit in the tub, next to her to her left. Harry finger–painted the hot white puddles that were now on her breasts.

“First rule,” Harry said, “Make sure she’s satisfied.”

“It was more than expected,” Ron said as he sat to her right.

Gia felt beneath the water, rubbed Harry’s softening dick, cleaned it.

“Stay awake,” Gia said to Harry.

“Not yet dark,” Ron observed.

“I’m fine!” Harry protested.

“Gia?” asked Richard as he came out onto the roof deck, starkers.

“I’ll be downstairs shortly for homework,” Gia said.

“Suppose I can,” Ron said.

Ron and Harry got out of the hot tub. Richard came in, sat on the ledge, legs partially spread.

“What’s up?” Gia asked.

“Jen said I was a bit rude,” Richard said, “With you.”

“What about?” Gia said, “You’ve been quite kind.”

“She meant—you know,” Richard said, “Maybe Harry talked to her, I don’t know, she green lighted…us.”

Gia moved over to him, pulled him down to sit on the bench. Her knees straddled him.

“The question is, what do you want to do?” Gia said, “I’m okay, Harry’s okay with it, Jen’s okay with it, but your instinct was you weren’t. That’s fine, if that’s the way you want it to be.”

“I’m…conflicted,” Richard said.

Gia reached down, felt the circumcised flesh stiffening.

“want to explore it, now?” Gia said, “I just had…don’t mind that. How far do you want to go? Willing to try it a step at a time?”

Gia lowered herself, let the slit touch her clitoris.

“How good is your birth control?” Richard said, “Just asking.”

“Harry’s healer prescribed it,” Gia said, “It replaces the egg with a dummy when I ovulate. No egg, no pregnancy.”

“That’s…good,” Richard said.

“Want to go further?” Gia asked.

“Just once,” Richard said.

Gia brought his hard cock a bit lower, she felt it begin to plunge into her, with the suction of his glans against her vaginal wall. She sat until her clitoris rested in his brown pubic hair, his balls beneath her.

“That close?” Gia asked, as she leaned in, kissed him. “You’re kind, you’re sweet, and I don’t want to let you go either.”

“Thank you,” Richard said, “You’re not particularly selective, are you?”

“Will you understand me better?” Gia asked, “You love me, right?”

“Of course,” Richard replied.

Gia flexed, let the shaft slide inside her.

“Oh,” Hermione said, as she came out onto the deck, starkers.

Gia, however, kept moving her hips, felt the push, and the pull, stimulating her, until she bore down, and felt herself start another orgasm. Any faults of Richard’s seemed, unimportant as she felt the surge of his warmth inside her. He breathed deeply, relaxed.

“Better?” Gia asked.

“Yeah,” Richard said.

“Another time?” Gia asked.

“Maybe,” Richard said, “Hermione?”

“I wanted to talk to her,” Hermione said.

“Later,” Richard said as he climbed out of the hot tub, “I think I should change the water, or add more spermicide.”

“You do that,” Gia said.

Richard left.

“Hermione?” Gia asked.

“Are any boys left?” Hermione asked.

“No,” Gia said, a smile on her face.

“Ron took me—” Hermione started.

“Seriously,” Gia said.

Hermione sat next to Gia, in the hot tub.

“I didn’t mean to imply that,” Hermione said, “Ron’s just frustrating at times.”

“Open relationships are—” Gia started.

“Open, I know that,” Hermione said, “Might give me a chance.”

“Then take it,” Gia said, “Hermione, I simply enjoy playing with boys like this, that’s _me_. You, you like to outwit them, and guess what, you succeeded.”

“Not all what it’s cracked up to be,” Hermione said.

“Why did you come?” Gia asked.

“You said open bedroom—” Hermione started.

“I did,” Gia said, “Still, curious.”

“I thought I wanted to be alone,” Hermione said, “Fell asleep on my bed, a nap, and another nightmare.”

“Same one?” Gia asked.

“Related,” Hermione said, “I think it’s a warning, if we fight, we’ll lose.”

Gia turned, straddled Hermione. Gia put her hands between the legs, massaged the hairy labia while bringing her lips to Hermione’s.

“You—” Hermione started.

“A friend,” Gia replied.

Gia leaned in, kissed Hermione. Gia moved her hands, felt the small breasts, teased the nipples just above the water; their crotches close together. Gia brought hers close to Hermione’s, their breasts pressed together. Gia felt the stream from Hermione.

“Sorry—” Hermione started.

“Let it be,” Gia said, reassuringly.

Gia held Hermione’s backside, and Hermione’s head saddled next to Gia’s, chin to the shoulder. Gia rubbed the back, massaged up and down.

“Over and over, Harry and Ron both die,” Hermione said, “I don’t want that to happen.”

“Nor do I,” Gia said, the worry became contagious, and she felt the sense of dread, “What have you not told me?”

“What we don’t know,” Hermione said, “How extensive is this campaign against Harry? To what end? I mean, sure, we can reason it’s Voldemort behind it, and the end’s not supposed to be pretty.”

Gia breathed deep, pulled back, stared into those brown eyes.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Hermione said.

Gia turned, sat back next to Hermione.

“I suppose it’s something to consider,” Gia said, “A plan B.”

“What plan B?” Hermione asked.

“I want to take Harry to the altar, to kids, to death,” Gia said, “He’s not ready.”

“Neither of them are, neither am I,” Hermione said.

“Nor me, not yet,” Gia said, “In time, we will be ready, but we have that big bad wolf of yours to deal with, one who could turn these dreams into ash.”

“We’re doing all we can,” Hermione said.

“I know,” Gia said, “It’s been noticed, at school, that I’m not entirely exclusive to Harry, that I’ll tease any boy. It’s simply fun.”

“I know,” Hermione said, “At times, I do that to Ron and Harry—they soak it up.”

“True,” Gia said, “It’s just that if that big bad wolf does strike, it’d be nice to have a plan, in case Harry isn’t able to be part of the picture.”

“I figured that was his reasoning with you and Ron,” Hermione said, “Making sure his best friend can take over.”

“That’s assuming Ron comes out unscathed,” Gia said, “Simply put, we need to be used to being open, with Harry’s and Ron’s consent, so we don’t overlook another opportunity should the worst happen.”

“I surely hope not,” Hermione said, “Might actually go to church if that did, because any salvation would be better than that option.”

“Perhaps we ought to get a couple of dildos, of their likeness,” Gia said.

“Did they tell you about what happened at school?” Hermione asked.

“Yes,” Gia said.

“In case you’re wondering about Harry’s limp,” Hermione said, “It got him in the arse.”

Gia laughed.

“It was funny,” Hermione said.

“I love you too,” Gia said, “I’d even use them in you.”

“Ta,” Hermione said. Hermione leaned over, kissed Gia.

* * *

“Mr. Hurley,” Professor McGonagall said Tuesday morning in her office, “While I sympathize with your plight, and I understand the general hostility that exists with Professor Snape, I must maintain order in this school, so I cannot write you an excuse for having left your Potions class early, am I understood?”

Ash nodded.

“I’m sorry but I cannot rescind the detention that has been issued in this matter,” Professor McGonagall said, “It would be inappropriate for me to do so.”

Ash nodded.

“I do not appreciate any student skipping class,” Professor McGonagall said, “Breakfast should now be available.”

Ash left the office.

“That’s harsh,” Buck said.

Ash nodded.

Buck rubbed in the center of Ash’s back for a moment, before they went down the marble stairs. They entered the Great Hall.

“Hey,” Gale said as Buck and Ash passed. Ash waved before sitting at the Gryffindor Table.

“Any sign of it?” Longbottom asked.

“It vanished at the same time Potter went to his lair,” Finnigan replied.

“None,” Thomas said.

“It was—lets not talk about it,” Longbottom said.

“Did anybody _not_ get it?” Colin Creevy asked.

Heads shook.

“At least those first years don’t have to worry about their knickers,” Macmillan said, “Cleaning charms don’t work.”

“If anybody catches it, shove it up Potter’s arse before you castrate,” Finnigan said.

“You’d just let Potter off,” Buck whispered to Ash.

Ash finished his juice, stood up, left the Great Hall. Buck and Gale followed.

“Sorry, we know you love him,” Gale said to Ash, “But…Potter’s not right. I heard he’s fucking teachers, even did Professor Tonks during lunch yesterday.”

“They had lunch!” Ash exclaimed.

“I heard he whipped out his dick to her,” Gale said.

“That thing got you yesterday during Transfiguration!” Ash snapped.

“He’s likely got more than one, consider that?” Gale asked.

Ash faced the blue eyed Gale.

“It’s not Harry’s fault,” Ash said.

“You know you’re not going to win him over,” Buck said to Gale.

“Thank you,” Ash said to Buck.

“I’m not saying you’re right either,” Buck said.

“See ya,” Ash said.

Ash bolted, ran until he came to the third floor Charms classroom.

“I’ve had two from Ravenclaw this morning,” Professor Flitwick said, “And it’s not something people will admit happened.”

“It’s just a Garvook’s product on the loose,” Professor Lupin said.

“I must agree, it’s not enough to warrant more drastic measures,” Professor McGonagall said, “It’s best to keep the classes moving.”

“It is, simply put,” Professor Dumbledore said as he stopped next to Ash, put his hand on Ash’s shoulder, took his weight off his cane, used Ash instead, “Sexual assault, it is serious. If canceling classes helps in resolving this, then it must be done.”

“Of course,” Professor McGonagall said, “The students?”

“Ordinarily the Great Hall would be best,” Professor Dumbledore said, “However, in this case, it’d be better to reduce the numbers, therefore, their dormitories would be recommended.”

“It’ll be done,” Professor McGonagall said as she left the classroom.

“I’ll get Nymphadora,” Professor Lupin said as he started to go past.

“Unless you wish to strip search every student, a student approach may be more desirable,” Professor Dumbledore said, “After all, they would be understandably reluctant to come forward. If I were a venturous student, I’d start by studying Garvook products in the library, if I were a student.”

“Of course,” Professor Lupin said, “I will still search.”

“As you should,” Professor Dumbledore said. He shifted his weight, gripped his cane, glanced at Ash.

Ash saw those twinkling blue eyes, and Ash understood the message. Ash left.

Attention all students, please report to your dormitories immediately.

Ash, though, went to the fifth floor, entered the library as Harry, Ron, and Hermione were gathering their books.

“We’ve got research,” Ash said.

“It’s a dildo attack,” Harry said, “Better if we weren’t here.”

“You’ve tackled this stuff before,” Ash said.

“I’m likely getting blamed as we speak,” Harry said.

“It’s my _friends_ being attacked,” Ash said.

“What’d you expect us to do?” Ron asked.

“Can I at least get _your_ help?” Ash asked Hermione.

“Got any exploding snap upstairs?” Harry asked Ron as they both got out their Firebolts.

“Do we have product catalogs here?” Ash asked Hermione.

“I’ll help,” Hermione said.

“Fine,” Ron said, “Here’s my broom.”

Ron handed the Firebolt over to Hermione, got on behind Harry. Harry opened the window, flew out.

“Garvook’s product line?” Ash asked.

“Let’s find it,” Hermione said as they went back into the stacks.

“I thought Harry—” Ash started.

“He’s frustrated,” Hermione said, “Damned if he does, damned if he doesn’t.”

“I’ve got friends here, at Hogwarts,” Ash said, “They’re important to me.”

Hermione took the product catalog down from the restricted section.

“You’re interested in this?” Hermione asked, glanced at the cover with a scantily clad young witches and wizards, bearing chains and whips.

“It’s been suggested that it’s a Garvook product terrorizing Hogwarts,” Ash said.

“I will _not_ look at the checkout card,” Hermione said, “Somethings are better left unknown.”

They sat down at the table, opened it.

“That’s not right,” Hermione said, “Golly, who needs tentacles in bed?”

“Dildos,” Ash said, “We’re interested in dildos.” Ash blushed as he realized the other implications of what he had just said.

“Found them,” Hermione said, “What sort do we have?”

“It’s going from person to person,” Ash said, “After it … I mean whoever, gets an … an orgasm.” He loved them, but saying the word still felt awkward.

“Party dildo,” Hermione said, “It says it’s supposed to go around the room, encourage participants to…participate. Doesn’t say anything about spontaneous orgasms.”

“Modified?” Ash asked.

“Likely, yes,” Hermione said.

“So, how do we catch it? Break its charm?” Ash asked.

“Suppose it’ll just go until it runs its course,” Hermione said.

Ash grabbed the catalog, studied the party dildos within the pages. Each one preferred a different technique.

“Got an idea,” Ash said, “I think I can catch it, may need your help to break the charm.”

“Of course,” Hermione said, “What did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know where it is, but I think I can entice it,” Ash said, “I’ll meet you in the dormitory.”

“I’ve got Ron’s broom,” Hermione said.

“I need something from Buck,” Ash said.

“Who’s Buck?” Hermione asked.

“First year,” Ash said.

Ash grabbed his bookbag, ran out of the library. He climbed the steps.

“Stop!” Professor Snape commanded on the sixth floor.

Ash, though, kept running, avoided the curse, and went up to the seventh floor. He came to the portrait of the Fat Lady.

“Dildo!” Ash said.

The painting opened, and Ash entered.

“Ash!” Buck exclaimed. Him and Gale were at a table.

“I’ll return it,” Ash whispered into Buck’s ear.

“Huh?” Buck asked before he followed Ash up the steps.

Ash entered the first years boys’ dormitory, went over to Buck’s trunk.

“What’s going on?” Buck asked.

“An idea,” Ash said, “Requires this.” Ash grabbed a jar of Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment . “I’m going to capture it.”

“How?” Buck asked.

“Later!” Ash said, “I’m going upstairs.”

Ash went up the steps, entered the sixth years boys’ dormitory.

“What’s this plan?” Harry asked.

Ash stripped fast, stood starkers before them. Neither Harry nor Ron had bothered to strip, were still dressed, along with Hermione.

“I’m bait,” Ash said.

Ash knew the plan was a bit reckless, and hair brained; he couldn’t ask anybody else to do this. Ash opened the jar of Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment and began to paint his dick.

“Oh, nice idea,” Hermione said.

“Really?” Ron asked.

“Like he said, bait,” Hermione said, “We just need to figure out what to do with it once he catches it.”

“And knowing where it is would also be helpful,” Ash said as he painted his anus. His todger stiffened.

An owl entered the room, dropped a short note at Ash’s feet, in loopy handwriting.

Hufflepuff Common Room

“I’d get mugged if I showed up there,” Harry said, “And I imagine running back—borrow this.”

Harry handed his Firebolt to Ash. Ash took the Firebolt, ran down the steps, came into the Gryffindor Common Room, walked over to Gale. Ash grabbed Gale’s cuff, tugged him along, out of the portrait hole; Buck followed.

“We’re not allowed—” Gale started.

“It’s in your common room,” Ash said, “I need to get in there.”

Ash took Gale down the spiral stairs, down to the ground floor. Another stairs, and they walked past the kitchens. Gale worked the barrels, and they opened.

“What’s the idea?” Buck asked.

“Get it into my butt,” Ash said, “The dildo, I meant.”

“Of course, of course,” Gale said.

“Once I do, I’ll need the window opened,” Ash said, Firebolt still in hand.

They entered the Hufflepuff Common Room with its low cut ceilings.

“Fuck!” Finch–Fletchley exclaimed.

“Drop your trousers now,” Macmillan said, “Get it over with.”

“You just want to see it—fine!” Finch–Fletchley snapped.

Finch–Fletchley crawled onto the table in front of Macmillan, dropped his trousers, lowered the back of his white briefs. His buttocks were smooth and round; and the vibrating dildo hummed as it was stuck in the anus.

“He’s about to—” Wayne Hopkins said, studying the face, “About five, four, three, two, one.”

Ash bolted for the table, got onto his hands and knees as Finch–Fletchley sighed.

“Who’s this?” Macmillan asked as he slapped Ash’s buttocks.

Finch–Fletchley relaxed, and the dildo quickly flew up into the air. It came right down between Ash’s buttocks, penetrated, and vibrated. Instantly, Ash’s cock began to surge, ejaculated.

“Gross,” Macmillan said.

Ash got off the table.

“This way,” Gale said.

Ash followed Gale, leaving a trail of off–white puddles, as they made it to Gale’s dormitory.

“Need more ointment?” Buck asked.

“You’re jealous,” Ash retorted.

Ash put the Firebolt between his legs, saw that he was still having his orgasm, ejaculating onto the broom handle.

“You sure about this?” Gale asked as he opened the window.

“No,” Ash said.

Ash trembled, this wasn’t a practice, this was real, he had to fly. Spasm after spasm, the vibrating dildo felt at home, having turned Ash’s hard cock into a semen shower, each one instilled a bit of confidence into him, and Ash took off. Ash trembled a bit, nerves went through his stomach as the wind fought his flight. A moment later, Harry came down.

“Know your way?” Harry asked.

“Sort of,” Ash said as he flew up.

“Sorry if I sounded…irritated, because I am,” Harry said, “I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

Harry led Ash up to Gryffindor Tower, they entered the dormitory, and Ash rolled off the broom. He climbed onto the table, hands and knees, as Hermione tugged at the dildo; it wouldn’t budge.

“It really likes you,” Hermione said.

“I know,” Ash said, before his mind understood it, “Hermione, I need…I need _you_.”

“What about me?” Ron asked.

“I need to follow through, with you,” Ash said, “This table’s not getting any cleaner.”

“Um…yes,” Hermione said, as she glanced at the growing sticky puddle beneath Ash.

“What’s going on?” Ron asked.

“We’re borrowing your bed,” Hermione said, as she stripped.

“You’re serious?” Harry asked.

Ash, though, went over to the bed where Hermione laid. He rested his sticky dick onto her, laid on top of her.

“You are, you really are!” Ron exclaimed.

Ash pushed his cock into her, felt the carpet against his groin. He felt the breasts.

“Did you even bother to read the book?” Hermione asked.

“There’s a book on this situation?” Ron asked.

“Yes, Harry’s got it,” Hermione said, “If you don’t mind—this should be working.”

“All the way,” Ash replied.

Ash went up on his knees, pulled her rear back to him, reinserted his hard cock, and began to drill. He felt weird as his hard cock was already ejaculating, already lining her walls with his sticky fluid. Ash had seen enough, just enough, with Harry and Gia, with Andy, to know what to do. Ash’s fingers felt Hermione’s clitoris, massaged around, until she breathed deep. Ash kept drilling.

“You got her,” Ron said.

“Not over until it’s over,” Hermione said.

Ash leaned forward, held her small tits. They might have been small for Hermione’s age, but they’d be good in the first year.

“She’s enjoying this,” Harry stated.

Hermione grinned at Ash. They kept it up for another few minutes, before Ash felt the vibrator cease. Ash pulled out fast, stepped backward.

Clink

It fell, the brown coated dildo hit the floor and remained idle.

“Okay, you’ve now got a dildo in your dormitory,” Ash said, “Shall we turn it in?”

“Yes,” Hermione said, before her eyes turned on Harry and Ron, “I’ll accompany Ash, since you two bare bothered.”

Hermione grabbed a plastic bag, used it to grab the dildo. She grabbed Ron’s Firebolt, handed it to Ash. Ash mounted the broom, Hermione got on behind him.

“Hold his dick,” Harry said, “I’m serious.”

Hermione wrapped her arms around Ash, the hands gripped the ejaculating hard cock. Together, they went out the window, and plummeted.

“Fly,” Hermione said, “Fly.”

Ash trembled, but managed to pull up, they headed for the second floor, landed. Hermione led the way, they went by the stone gargoyle, and went up the ascending stairs. They entered the Headmaster’s office.

“See, Gryffindors leave a mess _everywhere_ ,” Professor Snape said as he left.

“I take it you have news?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“Caught and slain,” Ash said as he put the idle dildo on the desk, “And…sorry.”

Ash was still ejaculating, the semen soaked tip kept dribbling and shooting.

“A potent artifact,” Professor Dumbledore said, “To be doing that.”

“That’s not the artifact,” Ash said.

“It was his idea,” Hermione said, “To lure it.”

“My butt as good as any,” Ash said, “I realized it wouldn’t let up until the orgasm stopped, so I used…an ointment that…”

“It is on the list of prohibited items,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I trust it is no more?”

“I didn’t check,” Ash said, “It’s pretty clear how I caught it.”

“That it is,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Mr. Hurley, I will aware you an award for special services to the school for your actions. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Ash replied.

Ash and Hermione left the office, when he stopped them on the second floor, by the window.

“Here, you fly back,” Ash said, “I know the password.”

“You need more flying Lessons,” Hermione said, “As do I.”

Hermione mounted the Firebolt, went out the window. Ash decided to go down first, as his tip still dribbled. He went down to the ground door, came to Oliver Wood’s office. Inside, a young woman that Ash didn’t recognize, was being embraced by Oliver, kissing.

“Katie—” Oliver said.

“You promised Harry,” Katie replied.

“He’s around,” Oliver said.

Ash continued when he felt the arm against the back of his neck, pinned him against the wall, as the firm softness pushed between his buttocks, penetrated. It shoved, pushed hard.

“I’m back,” the voice asked, “You some kind of mute? No bother, you ain’t telling.”

Ash felt the shaft, the hard erection push into the anus, not asking, simply using without permission. Just as quickly, Ash felt it withdraw, leave behind a sticky hot mess.

“You tattle and—”

Ash felt the fist hit the head, and he blacked out.


	45. Streaker

“ _Enervate_!”

Ash woke up to Madam Pomfrey’s aimed at him, in the Hospital Wing. He felt the pajamas, the sheets on top of him. Professor Dumbledore was there, steadying himself on his cane.

“Poppy, please excuse us,” Professor Dumbledore said.

Madam Pomfrey walked into her office.

“As you were found unconscious,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I’m certain you understand our concern.”

“I don’t know what happened,” Ash said.

“Are you certain?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“Yes,” Ash said, not wanting to relive it, again.

“If you change your mind, drop by,” Professor Dumbledore said. His cane tapped against the floor as he left.

Buck and Gale came in, over to Ash.

“Ready?” Buck asked, the brown eyes excited, staring at Ash.

Ash studied those big brown eyes, beneath the blond hair. Gale’s blue eyes focused on him.

“Yes,” Ash replied.

“You most certainly are _not_!” Madam Pomfrey stated as she came back out.

Ash felt the pajamas wedge against his balls as he slid down the bed, pulled the covers over his head.

“If you want to remain restricted to the Hospital Wing—” Madam Pomfrey started.

Ash pulled the covers off.

“Will he be alright?” Gale asked.

“Privacy!” Madam Pomfrey snapped. She waved her wand, some privacy screens marched over. “Mr. Hurley, strip.”

Ash took a moment, before he removed the pajamas, stood up starkers before Madam Pomfrey. A touch to his todger, and a shiver went up his spine; a reminder to what he had just endured. Ash screamed as he bolted. His legs flexed, his toes pushed against the marble floor.

“ASH!” Gale yelled as Ash ran past.

Ash ran up the stairs, through the corridors, his todger flopped as he moved. His erection returned by the time he made it to the seventh floor corridor, gave the password to the Fat Lady, and entered Gryffindor Tower. Several catcalls came from the small crowd as he darted for the stairs. Every other step, Ash climbed fast, went into the sixth years’ boys dormitory, Ash went straight for Harry, standing starkers, pushed him against the post of the four poster.

“Ash?” Harry asked.

“It’s important,” Ash replied.

Ash held Harry’s todger in his left hand, the right teased the foreskin, and it stiffened. Ash’s left hand began to stroke Harry’s hard cock, while the right teased the loose scrotum, both lumps hung low.

“What’s happening?” Ron asked.

“Dunno,” Harry said.

“Trust me,” Ash said, “Close your eyes and picture somebody else, if you must.”

Ash kept massaging, teasing the foreskin, the slit, the glans, the whole of Harry’s erect penis beneath the dark jet black pubic hair. Ash continued until he felt the spasm. His right hand grabbed, wrapped itself around, pads of his fingers on the ridge, on Harry’s urethrae as it began to pump. Ash watched the slit, the pulse of thick off–white shoot out, before the thick lava poured out, not seeing Buck peek into the dormitory.

“Why’d you—?” Ron asked.

“It wasn’t you,” Ash said.

“Ash, what’s going on?” Harry asked.

“I was raped, again, by the one pretending to be you,” Ash said, “But their dick doesn’t act like yours, besides, your semen’s thick, so it’s been a while. Therefore, it wasn’t you.”

“When?” Harry asked.

“Not sure, I was knocked out, woke up in the Hospital Wing,” Ash said, “Obviously not too long if we’re still having lunch.”

“It’s the weekend,” Ron said.

“No it’s not, you’re _here_ ,” Ash said.

“Gotcha!” Buck exclaimed, eyes glared at Harry.

“Get him out!” Harry barked.

Ash moved, dragged Buck out of the dormitory, closed the door.

“He raped—and now you’re jerking him—” Buck stammered.

Ash pressed Buck against the wall as Gale came up the steps. Buck glanced down at Ash’s hard cock before he returned to Ash’s face.

“I needed to know that he was the real Harry,” Ash said, “And their dicks betray their true identity. So, yes, I jerked that Harry off so I could tell that it was definitely him, and that he hadn’t ejaculated in a while. Conclusion, the one raping isn’t the real Harry Potter, period.

“Sorry,” Gale said, “Everybody knows Potter attacked you.”

“No he didn’t,” Ash said, “Not the real one, not the one on the other side of that door. Somebody is going around, pretending to be Harry—I don’t know the magic behind it. It gets Harry’s looks, so it looks like Harry, but not how he acts, so that dick going into me, it’s definitely _not_ Harry’s. Besides, this time, the attacker snuck up behind me, I never saw him, so why is everybody assuming it’s Harry?”

“I don’t know,” Gale said.

“Still,” Ash said, “You’re both a nice sight for sore eyes.”

“So you were raped?” Gale asked.

“Again?” Buck asked.

“I hadn’t said anything until now,” Ash said, understanding now, as there was only one other person who knew he’d just been raped, and obviously spreading the news, “Sorry, that’s not what you wanted to hear.”

Buck lowered the front of his trousers, finger hooked on the underwear beneath, exposed his crotch. Ash studied the two creases as they converged onto Buck’s stiffening penis.

“Friends?” Gale asked, as he lowered his dark trousers, his erection came out.

Gale pushed forward, right hip against Ash’s left, the foreskin touched Ash’s, while Buck held his out. Hip against hip, they leaned inward, watched the three hard shafts come together, foreskin retracted, and their slits touched each other. Each right hand reached forward, wrapped beneath, held the other two, kept the three todgers kissing.

“Friends,” Buck said.

“Friends,” Ash said, as he ignored the quiver he just felt “Um…good friends.”

Ash didn’t want to let go, as it helped him keep his bearings; friendly contact that he wanted, not imposed. Ash turned, kissed Buck, turned again, and kissed Gale. They all kept holding their dicks together, the glans with each other, as Ash felt the spasm start up

“I’ll take that as a _yes_ ,” Gale said as Ash felt himself surge.

Hot and sticky, pulses from Ash’s slit spread onto Gale’s and Buck’s glans. Ash felt the similar jet from Buck’s cock. Gale moved his hand last, they all watched the three slits squirt, the liquid joined together as it dripped to the floor.

“Definitely,” Buck said.

Ash let it be as Buck pulled up his trousers.

“Thank you,” Ash said.

Ring!

“Class—which class?” Gale asked as he restored his trousers.

“Um…Charms, I think,” Buck said.

Ash led the way down the stairs, until he reached the First Years’ and entered. He glanced at the clothes on his bed, his clothes, and dismissed the idea of actually wearing them, he simply didn’t want to. Instead, he grabbed his bookbag, with his wand sticking out, and left the dormitory.

“Ash!” Gale said, “You’re starkers!”

“I know!” Ash replied.

Ash went down the stairs, walked across the Gryffindor Common Room.

“Hey!” Finnigan came over to Ash, “Heard you’re the one—sorry it happened to you.”

Ash remained quiet, as Finnigan glanced at the starkers Ash, with his drooling hard erection jutting outward.

“Class,” Buck said.

Buck and Gale accompanied Ash out of Gryffindor Tower.

“Are you sure about this?” Gale asked.

“Yeah,” Ash replied.

Ash wasn’t certain, of course, just that it made him uneasy, uncomfortable, and he wanted to feel stressed. Every pair of eyes that glanced at him, to see the todger hanging out, to see his balls swing beneath him, or watched his butt, contributed to that stress. They came to the third floor corridor.

“It’s him, Potter intimidated him, easier arsehole,” said a Ravenclaw boy.

“He’s cute,” said a blond haired Ravenclaw girl, as she glanced at him, with his soft todger, and the still retracted foreskin with his wet glans loitering out.

“We asked you,” Gale whispered at Ash as they went into the classroom.

Ash walked along the long desk, sat in a chair, and put his bookbag on the desk. The girl sat to his right.

“What’s your story?” the girl asked.

Ash remained quiet.

“Everybody’s got a story, or so Lovegood says,” the girl said, “You’re sure to have an interesting one.”

Ash remained quiet.

“You’re weird,” the girl said.

“He’s shy,” Buck said as he stood next to the girl.

“Obviously,” the girl said, her eyes focused on Ash’s lap, his soft todger between the thighs, the foreskin covered it all.

Gale crouched, whispered into her ear.

“Are you—?” Buck asked.

Gale nodded, while Ash glared.

“Serious?” the girl asked.

“I had to,” Gale said.

Buck laughed as Ash glared. Gale sat two chairs to Ash’s left, while Buck took the immediate left.

“What—?” Ash whispered to Buck as he felt the fingers.

“I’m Tina,” the girl said.

Ash glanced down to confirm what he had felt, her fingers, Tina’s fingers from her left hand, were gingerly touching his todger, and it was stiffening. Ash was grateful for the front paneling of the long desk, blocking the view; while he was already expecting to get into trouble for being starkers in class, her playing with him during class was certain to be against the rules.

“Keep going,” Buck said, “Try the nards too.”

Tina’s fingers retracted the foreskin on Ash’s hard erection, her thumb worked the glans while the other fingers teased and tickled his scrotum. Quickly, his scrotum, his cock judged her grip, a gentle, caring, and curious, not seeking to take advantage, and his dick decided to accept the challenge. Her fingers felt his ridge as he felt the spasms start.

“Interesting,” Tina said as his cock started to pump, his semen began to squirt.

“Dare ya to do that in Potions,” Buck said.

Ash wanted to run, to hide, however, her fingers moved to hold his balls, to explore a bit. As his bollocks tended to do, the wave of the orgasm, the assessment of her touch, and it calmed his nerves.

“Maybe,” Ash said, softly.

“He talks,” Tina said.

“You may come to regret that,” Buck said.

Ash glared at him.

“You are cute,” Tina said to Ash.

Professor Flitwick got up on his podium, brought him to the typical height of a teacher.

“Today we will practice levitation,” Professor Flitwick said, “Please, get out your wands.”

Ash got out his wand, put his bookbag onto the floor while avoiding his white puddles beneath him. Tina kept her left hand wrapped around his balls while she got out her wand. Feathers floated in the air, from the pile in the corner, to their desks in front of them.

“You all know the incantation,” Professor Flitwick said before his eyes landed on Ash, “Mr. Hurley—don’t bother, I’ll take the points—”

“Wait!” Ash said as he felt the confidence from Tina’s hand on his bollocks.

“Whoa!” Professor Flitwick exclaimed as he fell off his podium.

Thud!

“I’m alright,” Professor Flitwick said as he stood up, with a bit of laughter in the room.

Ash whispered, wand aimed, “ _Wingardium Leviosa_!” His feather began to float upward.

“Well done,” Professor Flitwick said, “Five points to Gryffindor.”

Buck gave Ash a pat to the back.

“Keep it up,” Buck whispered to Tina.

“Is he always like this?” Tina asked Buck.

“Yes!” Buck exclaimed.

“You’re a weird one,” Tina said to Ash.

Ash simply grinned. Sure, he was starkers in class, ejaculating. However, it was the first time he felt at ease in class since he had started Hogwarts. Tina’s hand felt right being on his genitals, and he definitely wasn’t going to stop her. She used her right hand on her wand when she levitated a feather, before the pebbles were passed out.

“ _Wingardium Leviosa_!” Buck exclaimed as his rock rose.

“Ash’s got plenty of rise,” Gale said.

“Tina, touch here,” Buck said, as he pointed to Ash’s glans.

Tina moved her fingers, teased around the dew clinging to his tip. Ash’s dick agreed, sent more waves through him, as it threw out even more semen.

“Fascinating,” Tina said.

Ash blushed.

“Levitate your rocks,” Gale said.

Ash focused, as best as he could, the pebble in front of him flew up fast, broke a window.

“No throwing—” Professor Flitwick exclaimed.

“He didn’t,” Gale said.

“A side–effect,” Buck said, “Right?”

“Yeah, most likely,” Ash said, quietly.

Tina laughed.

Ring!

“Your assignment is to practice it for a half hour,” Professor Flitwick said, “Good day.”

Ash stood up, his softened dick hung just above the desk.

“Somebody enjoyed the lesson,” Gale said, glancing downward.

Ash glanced to the seat he had just been in, with the slimy puddle beneath it, and blushed. Tina grabbed his hand as he lifted the strap of his bookbag over his shoulder, and she tugged.

“Go!” Buck whispered.

Ash followed Tina as she pulled his hand. Ash noticed that while the boys had moved to leave, most girls, if moved, were now lined up along each chair as Ash had to slip between it and the next desk. Ash blushed as he understood Tina to now be showing him off, each of the girls watched as he moved slowly past them, his crotch inches away from them. Tina held Ash still for a few seconds in front of each girl, each girl who studied the crevice of his boyish V, with his retracted intact foreskin, and his two plump testicles. Simply daring them to look was different from them leering. Several minutes later, Ash left the classroom.

“You—” Ash started to say to Tina.

“You _are_ cute, they agree,” Tina said, “Besides, you’re the one showing up starkers to class, I assumed that’s what you wanted.”

“Um…” Ash muttered. He didn’t really have a good reason to be starkers, he just was.

“Wait here,” Tina said as she let go. She entered the girls’ lavatory; Ash followed. “It’s for—”

“I’m starkers,” Ash protested, before his eyes landed on it. An unused wall, with the flat steel plate of a urinal on it. “It’s a boys—”

“It’s marked for girls,” Tina said, “Think it was a boys years ago.”

Ash stepped up to the wall, an outside corner instead of a typical inside. Ash knew he needed to be less shy, it was obvious, and being starkers—he smirked, wondered if his body knew better that going about starkers certainly forced him to confront it. However, it was tough, instead, he just stood there, holding his todger.

“It’s boys—Tina!” came the bark.

“Easter, quiet, he needs—” Tina started.

“There’s a boys’ room for a reason,” Easter said.

“Relax, he was just going to demonstrate how a boy takes a piss,” Tina said, “Care to watch?”

“No,” Easter said.

“Just watch it,” Tina stammered.

Ash felt nervous, two girls staring at his penis, waiting for it to piss. Tina’s hand reached, held his testicles. Ash’s eyes, though, saw her lavender eyes, and she didn’t flinch as he trained his onto hers. Her hand, her fingers became reassuring, and he relaxed, let the bladder quench, and felt the relief as he peed. Tina’s eyes moved, watched as the golden stream poured out, onto the metal, to flow down, while other girls entered and left the bathroom, girls who’d glance at his bare buttocks.

“If I had wanted to see that, I could’ve stayed at home and get butchered,” Easter said, coldly.

Ash turned around, waited, as Tina went into a stall. Easter went into another.

“He’s the one, you know, that Potter—” Easter said.

“Him?” Tina said, “He is cute.”

“I got that,” Easter replied, “For a boy, he’s okay, it’s not his first time starkers.”

Ash merely waved as several others walked in, glanced at him, before they took their own cubicles.

Flush!

Tina came back out, she washed her hands, glanced at Ash.

“You waited for me?” Tina asked.

Ash shrugged. Tina’s lavender eyes traced his anatomy, including the testicles hanging behind the partially stiff penis. Ash saw the lavender eyes twitching, his todger stiffened, and Tina smiled. She reached over, held it.

“What don’t you just blow it!” Easter exclaimed as she quickly left the bathroom.

“You are easily excited,” Tina said, as her finger swiped across his foreskin and glans.

“Yeah, I…” Ash started before he felt the surge, his first shot got Tina’s hand. “Sorry, it just—”

“You’re easy to set off too,” Tina said.

Ring!

“Class?” Ash asked.

Tina and Ash broke out into a jog. Ash let his trickling dick just fling the droplets as his todger swung with his gait. They made it to History of Magic, found the corner, and sat together. Tina’s left hand felt his balls.

“So, you are the first year who can—” Tina started.

“Orgasm, I know,” Ash said as his eyes went from Professor Binns to Tina’s lavender eyes.

“Yet, puberty’s not that far in you,” Tina said.

“I…it was an accident,” Ash said quietly, not wanting to divulge every detail, “I’ve got no hair, not growing that much, yet, but yes, my willy works.”

“You are a walking contradiction,” Tina said, “Quiet, shy, seemingly wanting to hide in the corner, but starkers so it draws every pair of eyes onto you. Lets face it, you’re starkers, so that’s not going to be ignored.”

“I just felt like I shouldn’t,” Ash said, “Dunno why, exactly.”

“I’ve seen you before, just hadn’t really noticed you,” Tina said, “Starkers for the win.”

“Yeah, suppose so,” Ash said.

Tina felt his shaft sending out another surge.

“It’s not stopping,” Tina said.

“I don’t want it to,” Ash said.

“Good, otherwise, I’d suggest seeing Madam Pomfrey,” Tina said.

“At least it works,” Ash said.

“Not working could help,” Tina said, “Last year, I went to court because my cousin Kenny was slapped with a paternity suit. He got off when he dropped his trousers and whacked off. Sure, he’d be stimulated, but nothing squirted—he’s infertile.”

“Unlike my case, some bloke knocked my Mum up,” Ash said, “That’s why I’m here.”

“He’s not your Dad?” Tina said.

“A Dad’s gotta be there, right?” Ash said, “I couldn’t pick him out of a lineup, I’ve never seen him. Doesn’t even pay Mum his support.”

She massaged his balls, and it relaxed him further, unconcerned that his dick was still oozing, dribbling, slobbering to the floor below them. While it had been an accident with Harry, he realized how a person handled his balls said a lot about their intentions, themselves, and Tina was passing the test.

“A deadbeat?” Tina asked.

“Mum worked a lot, rarely saw her,” Ash said, “Mostly my brothers who’d pretend to take care of me. When I got the letter for Hogwarts, she was relieved, one less mouth to feed.”

“If you want horror, ask Easter about her grandparents putting out a hit on her,” Tina said.

“What?” Ash stammered.

“She’s hiding, here,” Tina said, “She doesn’t know if her mother’s safe or not, she doesn’t write for fear of revealing anything.”

“That’s…that’s horrible,” Ash replied.

“Shhh!” a Slytherin girl pushed at them.

“It is class,” Tina whispered.

“Yeah,” Ash said as he leaned forward, put his elbows on the table. He rested his chin on his arms on the table, when he felt the fingers touching the crack of his buttocks.

“Is this where Potter—?” Tina asked, “You know—”

“It’s not him,” Ash said.

“Rumor is—” Tina started.

“Shh!” Ash said. He didn’t want to talk about it, not here, as his shyness reasserted itself.

Tina’s hand kept exploring him, touching, and feeling as her lavender eyes tried to steady themselves onto Professor Binns.

“—Ministry for Magic is not without its advantages,” Professor Binns said, “It has collected and bound its wisdom into handbooks, comprehensive encyclopedias, that are, unfortunately, not available to us. Even if you managed to get one, they are unreadable to unauthorized personal; the first volume is rumored to be for the Minister’s eyes only. Onto the departments and divisions, we begin with the department of International Cooperation—”

Ash turned his head, his blue eyes fixed onto her lavender eyes, while her hand rubbed his back. Ash had found a new friend, one he started to not care if she’s been studying his orgasm, one that was okay with him, Ash, with nothing hidden from her. He wondered if this was why he needed to go starkers, as Tina put it, he stood out in his skin, and now, it felt good. Ash wondered how long he could go until he was compelled to dress.

* * *

“This is madness Albus,” Professor McGonagall said as she stood in the Headmaster’s Office, “I was about to intercede—”

“Mr. Hurley has some adjusting to do,” Professor Dumbledore said from behind his desk.

“To see every detail on a first year is unacceptable,” Professor McGonagall said, “He’s even marking his territory—should we teach him to be an animagus, a dog who can piss on every fire hydrant?”

“He needed to take the plunge to become a member of the student body,” Professor Dumbledore said, “If a little skin is required, a small price. I understand that Filius was ecstatic that he’d utter anything.”

“Albus, as you’re not shocked, you’ve known for a while, haven’t you?” Professor McGonagall said, “That, while Mr. Hurley is handsome, every first year generally is.”

“Mr. Potter first discovered the correlation with Mr. Hurley,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Given the reports, Mr. Hurley’s been needing to find his way in Hogwarts for some time, so we’ll give him the leeway to discover what he needs to know.”

“It’s rather … rather _explicit_ ,” Professor McGonagall replied.

“We support every student discovering themselves,” Professor Dumbledore said, “If that entails a little nudity, so be it, and that’s far preferable to using their schoolmates for target practice.”

“That’s the _other_ rumor surrounding Mr. Hurley,” Professor McGonagall said, “That Mr. Potter has been taking advantage of him.”

“It is true that Mr. Hurley and Mr. Potter has a delicate mutual agreement,” Professor Dumbledore said, “However, there is another pretending to be Mr. Potter. Fortunately, Mr. Hurley can tell the difference, knows the other to be an impostor.”

“Our resident thug,” Professor McGonagall said.

“The other reason to let Mr. Hurley run around as he is,” Professor Dumbledore said, “The impostor has attacked Mr. Hurley twice, the likelihood is that it will happen again.”

“Use him as bait?!” Professor McGonagall stammered.

“Please keep an eye on Mr. Hurley,” Professor Dumbledore said, “For his sake, and our sake.”

“I … I despise the whole thing,” Professor McGonagall said.

“Would you rather trust Severus?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“No,” Professor McGonagall said, “I will look out for every Gryffindor, as I try to do.”

“Thank you Minerva,” Professor Dumbledore said.

Professor McGonagall left the office.

* * *

Ring!

Ash kept his eyes studying the entrancing lavender eyes.

“Time to go,” Tina said,

Ash stood up. Tina glanced at his genitals, dangling inches away, the soft todger in front of his bollocks.

“Study?” Tina asked.

“Um…sure,” Ash said.

Ash grabbed his bookbag, and they left the classroom. They walked side by side, along the corridor.

“You’re both cute and kind,” Tina said.

“Um…thanks,” Ash said.

They climbed spiral stairs, reached the fifth floor, when she stopped him. Tina kissed Ash on the cheek, and he blushed.

“You are handsome,” Tina said, as she took two steps down. Her eyes studied him, facing her. “It’d be a crime to cover that up, stay this way tomorrow?”

“Hadn’t thought—” Ash started.

“Sure he will,” said a raven black haired boy coming up the stairs.

“Oh no!” Tina stammered, “Weasley and—”

“Quiet!” the raven black haired boy said as he shoved Tina against the wall, “Stay quiet, stay still, or you bite it. As to the other, my threat’s just as good. Go ahead Weasley!”

Ash felt himself shoved several steps forward, as another pair of hands held his buttocks. Ash’s todger acted out of fear, stiffened as the warm glans touched between his buttocks. Fear worked through Ash, his flesh compliant to the demands, as his anus began to part.

Pfffpt!

Ash tried to clench, tried to stop, but his anus did as it was meant to do as the invader approached. Ash’s bowels clenched down, began to expel, merely to slow down the approach. Ash glanced down, saw the brown logs, his droppings, hit the floor. He could see Tina’s lavender eyes, and his eyes began to well. Ash tried to hold it back, as his new friend witnessed him pooping, as the invader wedged itself inward; his own seed began to unleash.

“He’s enjoying it!” said the boy with black hair.

Ash wept as he felt his slimy buttocks surround the hard shaft, the one that pushed and pulled, through the muck, rough without regard for the sanctity of his hole. Instead of relief, Ash simply felt it pull out, the push against the back of his scrotum as the splash of warmth, the surge of the uninvited stranger ejaculated against Ash’s balls. Ash tried to keep it together, tried to stymie the tears, the sobs, as his arse let out a bout of runny diarrhea, for Tina, for anybody else to witness.

“I thought you would’ve learned your lesson last time and not squeal,” the raven haired boy seethed, “One word of this and your _shit_ is the least of your worries!”

Quickly, a red haired boy, dressed in a plaid overshirt, secured his trousers as he began to run, down the stairs; the black haired boy followed. Ash stayed there, breathing deeply, smelling the mess beneath him, and he puked.

Be—beleach!

A hand went to his back, Ash felt the smooth, soothing rubs.

“Hospital Wing,” Tina said, “Can you move?”

“Yeah,” Ash said.

Ash felt the evidence slip in his dirty butt as he began to walk, his orgasm continued and left a fine trail. Tina held his hand as they made it to the first floor, and entered the Hospital Wing.

“Mr. Hurley, so good of you to come back,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Thank you Miss. Reed for bringing him back in.”

Madam Pomfrey ran her wand over him.

“Ash was attacked, raped,” Tina said.

“A little cleaning and—I have just what you need,” Madam Pomfrey said.

She went over to her cupboard, retrieved a flask, brought it over.

“What’s this?” Tina asked.

“Quiet or I report you for rules violations,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Mr. Hurley has herpes, which is treatable, but to flagrantly flaunt—”

“Where’s patient privacy?” Tina asked.

“I can’t keep him here long enough to assure any privacy,” Madam Pomfrey said, “He runs around inviting—”

“What part of ‘He was _raped_ ’ did you not understand?” Tina stammered.

“Impossible, boys cannot be raped,” Madam Pomfrey stated, “They lack the necessary part.”

“Is he otherwise okay?” Tina asked.

“Take him to the showers,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Ash chugged the potion, it was bitter, but he was furious. Tina pulled Ash out of the Hospital Wing.

“Consequences damned, you’re reporting Potter—” Tina said.

“It wasn’t them,” Ash retorted.

“Really?” Tina asked.

“Somebody’s impersonating them!” Ash said, “That wasn’t Harry so it wasn’t Ron either.”

“Sure looked like them,” Tina said.

“That’s the whole fucking point!” Ash said, “It’s tarnishing the real Harry, a Harry who isn’t even…” Ash stopped himself.

“Isn’t what?” Tina asked.

“I can’t tell you!” Ash said.

“I’m not an idiot,” Tina said.

“Yes you are if you believe everything you see without questioning it!” Ash stammered.

“So are you if you’re not reporting—” Tina said.

“It wasn’t him, that’s final,” Ash said.

“Hope you find the next one equally enjoyable!” Tina stammered.

“What do you mean by that?” Ash demanded.

“Don’t bother coming up to Ravenclaw!” Tina shouted, “BYE UGLY!”

Tina turned around, left. Ash left his seepage be, and walked up the corridors. He had to huff a few times to keep the tears from welling up, from flowing out his eyes—an exposed, dirty, dripping butt felt like penance.

“Interesting trick, did it stop Potter?” Buck asked as Ash approached the Fat Lady.

“My butt? It wasn’t Harry,” Ash said.

“Of course not,” Buck said.

“What are you doing here?” Ash said, “I know—”

“No you don’t,” Buck said before he addressed the Fat Lady, “Runny.”

The painting opened. Ash stepped through, only to be met by applause as the crowded common room had their eyes on Ash.

“Here,” Finnigan said, pulled Ash upward until they both stood on the table.

Click!

A flash behind Ash.

“Wait for it!” Finnigan snapped at Dennis Creevy, holding the camera.

A moment later, Ash felt the urge, his bowels moved as his anus pushed out another chunk.

Click!

“Pardon for any embarrassment,” Finnigan said, “We’ve heard, as such, Ashley Hurley, you’re the first recipient of the Dirty Butt Award, for a valiant attempt to counter an attack from Potter and/or Weasley. Sure, it scared the shit out of you, but no shame in trying to survive. For that reason, keep your arse well armed and ready for action. How long does that take to develop, Dennis?”

“An hour,” Dennis said.

“Be proud of that butt,” Finnigan said as Ash felt the sludge drop.

Ash jumped off the table, bolted up the stairs, Buck followed. Ash entered the sixth years’ boys dormitory, threw himself onto Harry’s bunk, and cried into Harry’s pillow. A moment later, Ash felt the wetness enter between his buttocks, he glanced to see Buck moving the washcloth.

“It needed to be cleaned,” Buck said, shirtless.

“Ta,” Ash said.

“That wasn’t right,” Buck said, “Taking a picture of your butt.”

Ash sighed, cried a bit more into the pillow. Buck dropped his trousers, climbed starkers onto the bed. Buck rolled into Ash, brought their todgers together with his left arm, while the right pulled Ash in close. Ash rolled them, onto Buck’s back, let his own todger and balls rest on Buck’s thigh as Ash laid on top of Buck. Ash wrapped his arms around Buck, rested his head against Buck’s chest; Buck was better than a teddy bear.

“Tina?” Buck asked.

“Broke up,” Ash said.

“Fast,” Buck said.

“Yeah,” Ash said, “Thought Andy was fast, nope.”

“Andy’s that—girl you mentioned?” Buck asked.

“Yep,” Ash said.

They laid for a few moments.

“Go ahead,” Buck said.

Ash understood, the permission, and let his bladder relax; peed between them both.

“I heard Potter, others heard Weasley,” Buck said, “But you insist—”

“Not them,” Ash said.

“Still, somebody did, right?” Buck asked.

“Yeah,” Ash replied.

Ash sniffed at Buck’s armpits, he smelled the tanginess, ripeness, but assurance. Ash’s todger stiffened, the erection pressed against the base of Buck’s bollocks, and Ash felt the orgasm start. Surge after surge, it radiated through Ash, and Ash felt safe with Buck. To call Buck simply a _friend_ would be injustice, but it was more of how a brother should be. _Brother_ felt better to Ash, a person he’d happily trade Ian and Colbert for, in a heartbeat.

Ash quickly pulled the covers over them both as he heard the footsteps a short while later, though he kept peeking out.

“I would’ve thought McGonagall’s hole would’ve kept Potter busy,” Finnigan said as he entered the dormitory.

“Not every hole’s the same,” Thomas said, “You know that.”

“Why that first year’s?” Macmillan asked, “He’s a friend to one of my Hufflepuff first years.”

“They hang out together, like us,” Finnigan said, “Besides, once you find a good hole in one, why move on?”

“Have you tried getting him into Madam Pomfrey?” Macmillan asked, “It’s what I’d do if he were in my house.”

“She’s tried,” Thomas said, “Her notions are old–fashioned.”

“Likely protecting Potter,” Finnigan said, “Perhaps we should’ve searched her quarters.”

“Honestly, if Potter’s able to loosen the staff up, fine,” Macmillan said, “Maybe have him cheer up McGonagall, she needs a good one. Better him than me.”

“After today, I wouldn’t be surprised if Potter went after Snape,” Finnigan said.

“If you see Snape be kind to Potter, we’ll know what’s up,” Thomas said.

“Dinner,” Finnigan said.

Finnigan, Thomas, and Macmillan left. Gale entered, came over, and pulled the covers off.

“Save some for me,” Gale said.

Buck laughed.

“Did you really break up with Tina?” Gale asked.

“Yeah,” Ash said, sitting up.

Gale dropped his trousers first. Ash studied the fine appendages hanging there, the foreskin wrapped around the glans. Gale pulled his shirt, came over right in front of Ash. Ash watched as the soft flesh stiffened.

“We’ve got Astronomy in a bit,” Gale said.

Ash reached over, held Gale’s bollocks, studied the erection as the foreskin retracted, and stared at Gale’s slit.

“That’s not dinner,” Gale said.

Ash leaned over, kissed Gale’s glans.

“Just the appetizer,” Buck said.

They laughed, and Ash rolled off the bed. They sat at the table. Gale grabbed at the steak.

“I declare your butt off–limits,” Gale said to Ash.

“Huh?” Ash asked.

“Unless you want it,” Gale said.

“Whatchya at?” Buck asked.

“I heard you got fucked in the arse, again, by—” Gale started to say to Ash.

“I don’t know who, but they wanted me to think it was—” Ash said.

“It was Potter and Weasley!” Buck said.

“It’s a fucking disguise!” Ash snapped.

“Calm it,” Gale said, “Your butthole, your choice, period.”

“Thanks,” Ash said.

“Potter or not—I catch them violating you? They won’t know what hit them,” Buck said, “I don’t care what the rules say.”

“Can we still play with your butthole?” Gale asked.

“Um…sure,” Ash said.

“And taking that dump? Brilliant,” Buck said, “Keep it unpleasant for them.”

“Yeah, exactly what I was thinking,” Ash said, sarcastically.

They kept eating.

* * *

Later that evening, Ash grabbed his bookbag, the windows outside were getting dark. Buck and Gale followed. Ash glanced at them.

“You’re starkers,” Ash said.

“We’re supporting you,” Buck said.

“Ta,” Ash said.

They went down the steps. As anxious as Ash was walking starkers through Hogwarts, it definitely felt better to have company. They walked along the seventh floor corridor, and climbed up the steps. Their eyes adjusted to the darkness as they came to the top. A few stares, but most ignored them.

“Please, have a seat and find Andromeda,” Professor Sinistra said.

Ash sat on the stone, next to Buck and Gale. They took out their telescopes, sketched the neighboring galaxy onto their parchment.

“Well, I’m glad its dark,” Gale whispered.

Ash snickered.

They kept up their work until Professor Sinistra released her charm, and the sky clouded over. Nearly everybody went down, except for Ash who laid down. Gale and Buck remained. Ash sat up, knee up to his chin, looked over the ledge at the dark lake below.

“What’s on your mind?” Gale asked.

“Whether it was better at home,” Ash said, “I wouldn’t have met you, but Ian might’ve killed Kermit as he threatened to do. Kermit was the only survivor from when Ian poisoned my aquarium. It’s awful here, been awful to me, but it’d just be as awful at home, when Colbert was indifferent, and Mum was too busy to do anything except trust Colbert to take care of me and Ian.”

“Potter’s not making it better,” Gale said.

“You’re wrong,” Ash said, “Harry helped me fly, he helped me become…well, confident enough to survive here. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have met Andy. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have forgiven you for Kermit, we owe our friendship to him.”

“He’s raped you …“ Buck counted on his fingers. “Three times.”

“The dick does not lie,” Ash said, “It wasn’t his dick, therefore, it wasn’t him. It was…I don’t know, somebody else.”

“He got away with it,” Gale said, “He’s likely will attack again.”

“I know,” Ash said, “Whoever you catch, have fun with them, but not Harry. Let’s talk about something else.”

“How long do you plan to stay up here?” Buck asked.

“Dunno,” Ash said, “It’s nice, kinda feel safer up here than I do down there. Ironic.”

They laid down, watched the clouds move above, when footsteps came up the steps.

Oliver Wood appeared, his eyes gazed over the edge, toward the Quidditch Pitch. A girl behind him, Katie Bell, stepped behind him. She lifted his jumper up, over his head, put it aside, before she worked his shirt up. She dropped it, it landed on the threshold before falling over. Her hands felt his smooth abdomen as she kissed Wood’s neck.

“It’s smaller than I remember,” Wood said.

“We’ve grown up,” Katie replied before she sniffed his armpits. Her hands slipped down the front of his trousers, beneath the belted waistband. “In more ways than one.”

“So close, so long ago,” Wood said, “We should’ve done this as students.”

“You had your world, I had mine,” Katie said, “But you showed me yours since then.”

“True,” Wood said.

Pop!

Wood’s belt failed, the trousers dropped, revealing her hands to be massaging the todger, it was firming up as Wood kicked the trousers off along with his shoes. Katie’s foot gave them a shove, the trousers, the shoes fell over.

Ash, like Buck and Gale, remained quiet, watched.

“Katie!” Wood exclaimed.

“Okay, okay, it’s…kinky,” Katie said, as she stopped long enough to remove her shirt first, her skirt and knickers fell too. She kicked them over, and reached to massage the stiffness beneath the thick pubic hair. “Feel better.”

“Loads,” Wood said, “We’re not like those first years—I’m a teacher!”

“Luckily I left Hogwarts to go professional,” Katie said, “Still, you’re twenty, they’d understand—well, all except for Snape.”

“He’d need a good one himself,” Wood said, “Just thinking about that…no!”

Wood’s bollocks jostled as Katie stroked the circumcised shaft jutting outward over the ledge. Katie’s left hand held onto Oliver’s stomach, steadied him as his hard cock began to pump, and his seed leapt out, over the side.

“You promised me Harry,” Katie said.

“I told you to come earlier,” Wood said, “He hides at night. Where, I don’t know, but it’s effective.”

“I’d like to see him, just a reunion,” Katie said.

“Been talking to Coach Gerber, you may get the chance,” Wood said, “Try again tomorrow.”

Aa—choo!

Gale sneezed.

“What’d you see?” Wood stammered, his eyes drawn to the three sitting there.

“Nothing,” Ash said.

“I…” Wood stuttered, as he seemed to be searching for a viable option. “What are first years doing up here after curfew?”

“Astronomy class,” Buck said.

“Get to your dormitories and we’ll pretend this never happened,” Wood said.

“Deal,” Gale said, “Come on you two.”

Ash and Buck got up with Gale, they went down the steps. They came to the seventh floor. Gale started to go down.

“Hey!” Buck said.

“I’ve been out of my bed too often,” Gale said, “I ought to be in it for tonight’s bed check.”

“Tomorrow?” Ash asked.

“We’ll see,” Gale said, “Starkers?”

“Yes,” Ash said.

“Sure,” Buck said.

Ash and Buck went along the seventh floor corridor.

“Runny,” Buck said to the Fat Lady.

Ash and Buck entered, walked across the empty common room, and started up the stairs.

“You’re going to suggest—” Buck asked as they reached the landing for the First Year’s dormitory.

“It’s uncontested,” Ash said.

“But this is ours,” Buck said.

“Bryan might understand us sharing a bed, but Blake’s getting suspicious,” Ash said, “We can share upstairs.”

“Upstairs it is,” Buck said.

They went up the stairs, to the sixth years’ and entered. Only Longbottom was snoring in his bed, the rest were empty. Ash laid on Harry’s four poster bed, on his left side. Buck laid in front of Ash, the eyes focused on Ash’s. Ash’s hands worked Buck’s arms, before they touched Buck’s soft penis. Ash moved to his hands and knees, sniffed at Buck’s skin.

“You seem confident here,” Buck whispered, “You know something, don’t you? Something more, that’d help Potter, don’t you?”

Ash moved, not understanding why, just moving as his instincts told him to, instincts that had sorted him onto interesting roads before, the same instincts that had said to trust that strange letter inviting him to Hogwarts, as Buck moved to his back. Ash laid down, below Buck, moved his head between Buck’s legs until his shoulder wedged against Buck’s butt crack, the anus on the apex of the shoulder. Ash rested his head on Buck’s abdomen, pushed Buck’s genitals under his jaw onto the skin of his neck.

“He’s…with his girlfriend,” Ash said, “That’s where he goes, to be with her. He was most likely having sex with her when he was supposed to attack. I’m sorry, it doesn’t add up that he’d leave her, just to rape, when he gets more than enough with her.”

“Then tell people where he’s at,” Buck said.

Ash felt Buck’s stiff, hard, cock against him, massaged it.

“No,” Ash said, “He made me swear, and I’ll protect him.”

“People won’t believe you unless you spill,” Buck said, “Even then—”

“Me? Talk?” Ash asked.

“Forget it,” Buck said, “Still, Harry or not, you’re getting raped. I’m not going to stay idle.”

“Don’t expect you to,” Ash said. Ash felt spasms in Buck’s hard flesh, the warm and sticky seed clung to Ash’s jaw. “It’s not him, but somebody _is_ raping me. It’s somebody trying to frame Harry—big difference.”

“You’re going to attract attention,” Buck said.

“I can’t pretend Harry’s guilty when he’s not,” Ash replied.

Ash’s fingers held Buck’s soft lumps against the throat. Ash felt the testicles pressed, both sides, as he massaged Buck’s freshly squeezed bollocks.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Buck said.

“Me neither,” Ash said.

Buck pulled the cover over them both. Ash remained there, let Buck’s left big toe run along the butt crack until Buck went limp, snored. Ash had a lot to go over in his mind, feeling intimate with Buck’s dick soothed it over, gave his mind something to focus on.

On the one hand, he had been raped, twice, not counting the dildo. On the other, Tina had given a sense of normalcy, an illusion that Buck and Gale seemed willing to provide. Buck’s willingness helped, because Ash knew they were right, once the gravity sunk in, there’ll be hell to pay, and his instincts were trying to convince him to ignore it, to pretend nothing happened. Maybe his instincts were right, for now. All Ash really knew is that sleeping with friends seemed the best remedy of all.

Ash fell to sleep.


	46. Streakers

Ash woke up, next to Buck on the bunk Wednesday morning, the twenty third day of October, still on Harry’s four poster bed at Hogwarts. Ash glanced at those big brown eyes who studied Ash’s blue.

“You like to live dangerously,” Buck said.

“There’s only one danger here,” Ash said, “Can I show you how safe Harry is?”

“No,” Buck said, “What?”

Ash moved to his hands and knees, brought his head over Buck’s crotch, leaned in, and pulled the softness into the mouth. Ash’s tongue worked its way into the tip of the foreskin, tasted the salty sweat flavor inside as it pushed against Buck’s slit. Ash felt the flesh engorge itself rapidly within the mouth, as Buck’s erection firmed up; Buck pinched Ash’s foreskin.

“You’re going to insist, aren’t you?” Buck asked.

Ash’s eyes stared at the loose testicles as he sucked, the tongue caressed as the glans slipped out of the foreskin, the slit aimed. Ash’s fingers teased those bollocks as his tongue played for fast stimulation. Within seconds, Ash tasted the meaty flavor burst inside his mouth, the tongue lapped at Buck’s warm geyser of stickiness.

“Good morning to you too,” Buck said, his voice relaxed as his orgasm progressed to Ash’s delight.

Ash licked fast as Buck subsided, withdrew, and sat next to Buck’s head. Ash laid his left leg down, brought his right up, and adjusted his genitals to give Buck a better view.

“Okay, you win,” Buck said, softly.

“Just lay here and wait,” Ash said, “It’s about time for Harry to … stop hiding for the morning.”

“We’re on his bed,” Buck said.

“He doesn’t mind,” Ash said, “Even told me so.”

“One heck of a good morning kiss,” Buck said.

“I felt like it,” Ash said, “It’s what I can control.”

“I say this is a bad idea,” Buck said, “You need to take your leak.”

“I do, but it can wait,” Ash replied.

Buck leaned over, kissed Ash’s todger as Harry appeared just above them, fell.

“Ash,” Harry said, “What did I tell you—company?”

“Just hold still,” Ash said, “I wanted to show him something.”

Ash got up onto his knees, near Harry’s head, aimed his penis.

“You’re going to—?” Harry asked.

“You’ll need to shower,” Ash said as he began to pee. Ash swung his penis, coated Harry’s chest in yellow, aimed for the pubic hair, put some of it onto Harry’s cock, before bringing it back to the neck, when Ash’s cock dried up. “Thank you.”

“What’s going on?” Ron asked.

“Another attack, which you’ll undoubtedly hear about,” Ash said.

Buck, though, bolted for the door. Ash got off the bed, ran after Buck and the naked butt. Ash caught up with Buck in the first years’ dormitory.

“That’s the real Harry!” Ash said to Buck, “One who’ll let me use _him_ but won’t use _me_. He trusts me well enough to piss on him, and I trust him well enough not to. Whoever’s attacking isn’t him, whoever’s attacking is trying to drive a wedge between me and Harry — I refuse to cave in, no matter how many times I have to take it in the arse!”

“You’re nutters,” Buck said.

“Know what’d be even more nutters?” Ash asked as he grabbed a jar of Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment and held it up.

“We’re going to be starkers,” Buck said, “No, lets not do that right _before_ class, alright?”

“Okay, okay,” Ash said, putting the jar down into Buck’s trunk.

“Lets find Gale,” Buck said as he grabbed his bookbag, put the strap over his shoulder.

Ash grabbed his, and they left the dormitory.

“Still feels weird,” Buck said.

“If anybody complains, show em your bare butt,” Ash said.

Buck chuckled. They walked along, down the stairs and corridors, came to the Great Hall. Buck trembled.

“Breath, just remember to breath,” Ash whispered.

Together, Ash and Buck entered. A few eyes glanced, most paid attention to their meals. Ash and Buck walked along the Hufflepuff Table, sat across from Gale, whose light skin stood out.

“Well, guess what?” Gale said, “People NOTICE!”

“We’re doing it for Ash, remember?” Buck said.

“Yeah,” Gale said.

“Thank you,” Ash whispered.

Ash pulled off several cauldron cakes, poured on syrup, and began to bite into one.

“Hey, hey!” Finnigan said, his cloak billowed as he walked over, “What do we have here?”

Ash kept quiet. Buck blushed and Gale simply glared at the tall sixth year Gryffindor.

“This isn’t right,” Finnigan said, “Ernie—Potter’s attacking yours too.”

“We’ll protect him,” Macmillan said.

“Look at them, so afraid that they’d try to keep it quick,” Finnigan said, “No student should be this scared to not even dress. Here they are, getting intimidated—when Potter get you?”

Gale shook his head.

“Come on, stand up, we won’t judge,” Finnigan said, “Stand on the table.”

Eyes bore on Ash, Buck, and Gale as they got up, climbed onto the table. They stood, uncensored, their soft dicks and balls hung out for all to see.

“I even heard you skipped a step in puberty,” Finnigan said, “Maybe that’s why Potter likes your arses, I don’t know. But I do know you’re welcome here, you ought to feel welcome, and Potter’s not doing that.”

Ash wanted to protest, but his gut clenched, the butterflies in his stomach kept his mouth shut.

“These are the faces that we need to protect,” Finnigan said, “First years who should feel safe to cover up, to not be a forced prostitute to the likes of Potter. For too long, Potter’s been given special privileges, and he’s returning the favor by compelling our first years to reveal _everything_. It’s not right, and it’s time to stand up to him. Who’s with me?”

Hands went up.

“And ladies, especially the first years,” Finnigan said, “When you pass these fine gentlemen in the halls, smile, compliment their fine attire, and make them feel welcome at Hogwarts, like it’s safe for them. Thank you for your patience.”

Applause.

“And I applaud your daring,” Finnigan said quietly as he helped them down, “You’ll have girlfriends by the end of the day.”

Buck blushed as he sat back down.

“Really, takes real balls to show off,” Finnigan said, “That’s how come I know you’re scared witless. Good day.”

Finnigan left.

“We—” Gale stammered.

“You did it to show solidarity with me, right?” Ash asked, quietly.

“Yeah,” Gale said.

“If it _were_ Harry, his speech would be spot on,” Ash said.

An owl dropped a small, long package in front of Buck.

“Alright!” Buck exclaimed.

“What is it?” Gale asked.

“Nothing!” Buck said, defensively, “Positively nothing.”

“Open it,” Gale said.

“No!” Buck said quietly, “I talked my cousin Dexter—it’d get confiscated!”

Buck stashed the package into his bookbag, unopened.

“Please,” Ash whispered.

Buck’s left hand moved fast, quickly, stimulated Ash’s foreskin into an erection, and Ash felt the spasm a moment later. Ash’s hard cock ejaculated beneath the table.

“Alright, alright,” Ash said, “It can wait.”

“He bribed you, didn’t he?” Gale asked Ash.

“I’m not saying,” Ash replied, trying the best fake look of innocence that he could muster.

“Really, please wait,” Buck said, “I’ve got…nevermind, it’ll wait.”

“You know _my_ price,” Gale said.

“If you insist, keep it hidden,” Buck said.

Buck reached into his bookbag, pulled out a brush, on a cap. Ash recognized the applicator to Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment fast. Gale took it for a couple of moments, used it, and handed it to Ash. Ash painted his own hard cock with it, his balls, before he painted his arsehole. Ash handed it back to Buck, who slipped it back into his bookbag.

“You didn’t receive anything,” Gale said, “I know absolutely nothing about it.”

Buck laughed.

They finished their breakfast, and got up. Their erections were firm by the time they walked into Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall came over to Ash, Gale, and Buck.

“Apparently your attire is your affair,” Professor McGonagall said, “However, I expect you to behave to the standards of Hogwarts and act appropriately to bring both decorum and honor to your houses. Am I understood?”

“Yes,” Buck said.

“Yes,” Gale said.

Ash nodded.

“If you need to be seated separately, do so now before I have to break anything up,” Professor McGonagall said.

Ash moved forward slowly in his seat as the Professor went to the front of of her room; his balls hung over the front of the bench.

“Well, this is going to be a challenge,” Gale said.

Ash wrote feverishly as he worked on the assigned essay, anything to keep his mind away from his very hard, very sensitive, cock looking for the slightest excuse. Ash clenched his buttocks tighter and tighter, kept trying to focus on the classwork, desperate to save the display.

Ring!

Ash quickly gathered his things as he felt his control waning. He was first out of the door, when Tina stopped him.

“Ash,” Tina said, faced him, “Look, I’m sorry—”

Ash’s hard cock had run out of patience, started spasming and released. Ash had no way to stop, the hard erection jutted straight out as the surge pushed out. Unaided by his hands, by anything save the wind, his orgasm started faster than Ash could respond, and his off white liquid was pumped out hard. His flying beads hit the front of Tina’s trousers, drenched her front side.

“Why?!” Tina demanded before she stormed off.

“Sorry!” Ash barked, his dick kept draining itself onto the floor.

“Here?” Buck asked as he touched his own.

Buck ejaculated as Ash stepped over the puddle. Ash let his dick dribble, tried to ignore the glances, as he made his way up to the third floor, entered Defense Against the Dark Arts.

“Professor Lupin is indisposed,” Professor Tonks said, as they all sat, “Today—”

An owl came in, dropped a letter at Ash’s desk.

“Do not request owls—” Professor Tonks started.

Ash shook his head.

“It’s not his idea,” Buck said.

Ash opened the envelope, read the unsigned letter.

Playing with yourself? Don’t. Those are my toys!

Ash crumpled it, threw it aside.

“Please, enlighten the class as to what’s so urgent,” Professor Tonks said.

Ash shook his head.

“Five points from Gryffindor,” Professor Tonks said, “Today, we’ll practice the Full Body Bind. I need a volunteer—” she pointed directly at Ash. “Come up here.”

Ash stood, went to the front of the classroom, wished the bone collection above would crash as Ash desired the diversion. Instead, eyes were on Ash, starkers, with his jutting hard cock still oozing and dribbling as his orgasm continued.

“So, _that’s_ what that boy meant at breakfast,” said a brown haired young witch from Ravenclaw, one that Ash didn’t recognize, “You’re starting puberty, right?”

“It means he likes the lesson,” said a Slytherin boy.

“We’ll take care of this,” Professor Tonks said as she aimed her wand, “ _Guadens Subsisto_!”

Ash felt the tension build up as another surge pushed out, and everybody witnessed another long bead fly forward. Ash blushed.

“ _Finite Incantatem_!” Professor Tonks said.

Ash’s dick ignored, kept pouring out.

“Hospital Wing,” Professor Tonks said.

Ash shook his head.

“Everybody, it’s not easy growing up, with your bodies changing on you,” Professor Tonks said, “It will not stop trying to embarrass you, but be prepared to be witnessed if you bare it all. However, please show him compassion. Let us begin the demonstration.”

Professor Tonks took a few steps away, aimed her wand.

“ _Petrificus Totalus_!” Professor Tonks exclaimed.

Ash felt his arms and legs snap together, he fell backward stiff as a board. His dick, though, seemed to ignore it, kept pumping out semen.

“As you can see, he is immobile,” Professor Tonks said, “Just remember the general counter curse, _Finite Incantatem_!”

Ash’s legs and arms flexed, he quickly stood up, though his white puddles streaked along his shaft, on his abdomen.

“Pair off,” Professor Tonks announced.

“Why are they naked?” Easter asked.

“They are not supposed to be,” Professor Tonks said, “However, it was ruled that the best punishment was to embarrass them, as it’d be more effective than points or detentions, therefore, I oblige. You, please point it all out, stress every bit you see, and, as a bonus, aim the body bind right there, see what happens.”

Ash was paired off with Easter. She glared at him, with the exposed glans, and the slit bubbling out the off white liquid dripping down.

“Gross, disgusting,” Easter said as she flicked her wrist, “ _Petrificus Totalus_!”

Ash felt the legs and arms stiffen as he fell onto his back, appreciated that the body bind did encase him in a small layer of magic to soften the blow of hitting the stone floor. However, his cock froze, stopped ejaculating, but the pressure built.

“ _Finite Incantatem!_ ” Easter exclaimed.

Ash’s cock nearly exploded, sent up the solid stream that had been waiting, it coated his dick on the way down. He stood up, and his penis was covered, it glistened in the sunlight coming into the room, a rainbow reflected upward, shone on the wall. While Easter didn’t giggle, simply glared for a moment, others did.

Ash wasn’t certain what had possessed him to go starkers, but it certainly felt like a bad idea at the moment. His dick, drunk from Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment , had no intention of letting up. Ash blushed as he thought about it, embarrassed as every single classmate of his was now a witness to what is supposed to be a rather private behavior. A hidden benefit, though, was he could glance at Buck’s buttocks, the tight line, the crevice that led to temptation. Ash reached for his wand, drew it. He muttered, Easter stiffened, fell backward.

“Weak,” Easter said, “Obviously distracted.”

Ash changed partners to a different girl, a Gryffindor that he had yet to learn the name of, with dark brown hair. Ash, Buck, and Gale continued the lesson, practicing, as every single girl had a chance to get a closer look at their genitals, each dick spewing out their semen, until the lesson finally came to an end. They left the classroom.

“That _professor_!” Gale stammered, “Not only did she not ignore it, she advertised our dicks like it was show and tell!”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Buck said, “I need to…”

Buck led the way into the third floor boys’ bathroom.

“We all do,” Gale said, his hard dick dribbled.

“Got an idea,” Ash said as he studied Buck’s smooth butt, with the crack, “Mind?”

“Try it,” Buck said.

Ash stepped closer, spread Buck’s buttocks apart, and pushed his hard cock inward. His tip, his glans, the shaft buried it into Buck’s anus. Ash tried a pull and a push, pulled out.

“Nope,” Gale said as he glanced at Ash’s still dribbling cock, “Worth a try, though.”

Ash went to the sink, washed his dick, and pulled out. Drips of semen spread to the towel as he dried it.

“Better, I suppose,” Ash said.

“Sounded like she was issuing a challenge,” Buck said.

“Stay naked?” Gale stammered.

“Why not?” Ash asked.

“I…” Gale muttered.

“I’m in, if you two are,” Buck said.

“I am,” Ash said.

“Me too,” Gale said.

They leaned in together, pressed their slits together, slits that were mutually releasing their trails of slime, and the semen mixed for a moment before they pulled apart. They headed out, left the bathroom and went for the library.

“You go ahead, I’ll go back to Gryffindor,” Ash said.

“No, you’re sticking with us,” Buck said.

“Yeah,” Gale said.

Ash continued to the library, they entered, and found the corner table with some seclusion. Ash, though, didn’t feel like keeping things under the table, instead, he knelt on top of the table. Buck glanced at the still drooling dick, as Ash felt surge after surge continue on his orgasm.

“Is it going to stop?” Gale asked.

“I…don’t…want…it…to,” Ash said, “Gimme the jar.”

“Are you sure?” Buck said, “You’re waxing the table.”

“Yeah,” Ash said.

Ash didn’t want his orgasm to end, as wave after wave settled his mind, pushed the rapes of the previous day aside, instead, the pleasure intensified, soothed him. Buck got out the applicator, applied more of the paste to Ash’s hard cock, his scrotum. Ash’s pumping strengthened a bit, the liquid became thicker.

“You realize we have Potions after lunch, right?” Gale asked.

“Oh,” Ash said, “It just feels so…”

“Addictive,” Buck said.

“It’s great,” Ash said, “I think I can get through Potions.”

Ash considered the drawback, it’ll be Potions, but the waves from his orgasms inundated his doubts, and he decided to just carry on with it; his dick was going to be active. Ash grabbed his books, began to read through them, letting Gale and Buck watch the active fountain. They kept studying for the rest of the study session.

Ring!

“Can I have that—” Ash started to ask, the puddle beneath him was running over the edge of the table onto the floor, his dick was still adding to it.

“No!” Buck said, “You realize people are getting rather suspicious with you dropping load after load, you’ll be hauled off to the Hospital Wing.”

“I’ll cut it out for bed,” Ash said, “It helps, it really does.”

“One _last_ time before bed,” Buck said, as he handed the applicator over.

Ash painted his cock, brushed it into the stream, before he worked his balls, and his anus. He returned it.

“Better?” Gale asked.

“Yeah,” Ash said, the feelings of bliss still coming from his ongoing orgasm, the semen kept pouring out, “At least I’m not dressed, it’d be a bloody mess!”

Ash got off the table.

“Really, is it helping you?” Buck asked.

“Yes,” Ash said.

Ash wasn’t looking forward to getting raped, again, even though he conceded it’d likely happen. His own misbehaving todger kept his mind from lingering there, kept it preoccupied.

“Good,” Buck said as they moved to leave the library.

“You’ve been really using it, haven’t you?” Gale asked.

“I’d like to keep using it,” Ash said.

“We’re daring, but we’re not that daring,” Buck said, “Stiffies are bad enough.”

They made it to the Great Hall, entered. Eyes glanced up at them, at Ash with his hard erection still letting loose jet after jet, surge after surge, laying down a trail that could double as breadcrumbs to where Ash had been. Dennis Creevy aimed his camera, at near point blank range, trained to Ash’s continued action.

Click!

A flash of light, and Ash realized that there was now a picture of him ejaculating. His normal shyness, his normal self was appalled, however, his normal psyche was getting pushed back, each orgasm kept it at bay enough that he continued walking to the first years of Gryffindor. Gale sat down next to Ash.

“ _Ash_ , right?” Finnigan asked as he approached.

Ash nodded.

“Condolences on having to feel like you need to whore yourself out, all day,” Finnigan said, “We’ll get to the bottom of this—clearly, Potter’s hiding, waiting, otherwise, he’d be here, eating lunch.”

Ash shook his head. Finnigan knelt next to, but just behind Ash.

“Don’t worry, I still respect you,” Finnigan said, softly to Ash, “I mean, did I tell you how Potter went around petrifying people, including our good friend Justin Finch–Fletchley our second year, that’s right after Potter tried cursing him with a snake in a duel? You’d be mad not to take the threat seriously. We’ll see what we can do, help you dress again.”

“He’ll deny it’s Potter,” Buck said.

“Really?” Finnigan said, “We spent years worshiping him, I know it’s tough to get over that, to see Potter for who he really is—filthy rich, a tyrant, brow–beating others into servicing his every whim. We’ll help you. You’re a Gryffindor, of course I’ll help.”

Finnigan gave Ash a quick rub to the top of the head, before he returned to the other end of the table.

“And you’re making a mess,” Buck said, glancing beneath the table.

“I can’t help it,” Ash replied, softly.

“Yes you could,” Buck said, “Well, maybe it’ll attract.”

“Attract what?” Gale asked.

“What’d you think?” Buck said, as he fingered inside his bookbag, “Don’t leave my sight, alright Ash?”

“You just want to see my butt,” Ash said.

“That too,” Buck replied.

Ash dipped his grilled cheese sandwich into the tomato soup, ate. Ash knew it wasn’t particularly cool to be constantly ejaculating, but the waves of reassurance were desperately needed, ones he didn’t think he’d get if he were dressed and pretending like nothing had happened. Each surge of relief numbed the memory of that intruder, that hard cock that didn’t ask, didn’t treat him nice, a cock that had just treated him like it owned his arse as a spare when no pussy was available.

BU–URP!

Gale got up.

“I suppose you’ll—” Buck handed Ash the applicator with it’s brush well dipped.

“Ta,” Ash said as he, again, painted his hard cock, in front of him beneath the table. He painted his loose balls, handed it back.

“You’re just going to jizz all day?” Gale asked.

“Looks like it,” Buck said.

“It helps, I need it,” Ash said.

They got up. While Buck and Gale had softened, Ash’s hard erection was still ejaculating, dropping semen as he walked. They left the Great Hall, went down the steps into the dungeons. They took a right instead of the usual left.

“Where’s the loo?” Gale asked.

They came to a writhed fern planted in dry dirt of a planter pot; their balls cleared right over the top.

“Here,” Buck said.

Buck, Ash, and Gale crowded around the pot. Ash realized his bladder was indeed getting full. Buck and Gale both retracted their foreskins; bared the slits, and began to pee, the yellow jets hydrated the parched soil. Ash tried to negotiate with his cock, as it kept pouring semen out, for a short break so he could sue for relief; he was nearly there when the greasy voice came.

“What would three first years be doing poisoning the flora of Hogwarts?” asked Professor Snape, “Ten points from Hufflepuff, fifty from Gryffindor, and Mr. Hurley, you will need your apparent talent.”

Professor Snape turned, escorted the three to the Potions classroom, where the other first years and second years were.

“Before you get settled, I have already paired you off,” Professor Snape said.

Quickly, rearrangements, as Buck went to Easter, and Gale went to Tina. Ash did not find his name on any of the tables.

“Today we will be making an anti–depressant potion,” Professor Snape said, “Its chief ingredient can be difficult to procure as it comes from the wizard but must be collected by the witch in sufficient quantities. Ordinarily, we could employ the services of the fourth or fifth year wizards, however, today, we have a _volunteer_ to provide you each with a fresh sample. In Potions, freshness matters.”

Eyes turned to Ash.

“As you should be aware, the wizard’s contribution already possesses a mild anti–depressant,” Professor Snape said, “What you brew will bring out its essence, and make it more potent. We shall see how well you poison yourselves by the end of the lesson, begin.”

Ash stood there as the other students began pouring in a bit of water into their cauldrons.

“Move!” Professor Snape barked at Ash, pointed to Easter.

Ash moved over to her and Buck. Buck handed the flask to Easter.

“Me?” Easter asked, glaring at Ash’s cock.

“You’re the _witch_ here,” Buck said, “And he’s clearly ready.”

Easter timidly put the flask beneath the tip of Ash’s hard cock, the droplets and dribbles moved around the glass.

“Stroke it?” Ash whispered to Buck.

“You stroke it,” Buck said to Easter, “You gotta want it.”

Easter glared before she huffed and closed her eyes. She gripped Ash’s hard cock, and Ash felt the stimulation take over his entire brain. He stumbled for a moment, but the flow increased, poured steady into the flask until it was half full.

“We only needed a tablespoon,” Buck said, “Tina’s next.”

Ash knew he should’ve felt embarrassed, concerned, however, the pleasure his dick was providing dwarfed all sense of reasoning. Ash’s dick dribbled as he stepped over to Tina and Gale.

“You’re loving this,” Gale said to Ash.

Tina exhibited more confidence, grabbed and stroked Ash’s hard shaft like she was milking a cow. She teased his testicles, and his dick provided. Tina kept it up until her flask was nearly full. Ash went to the next group. One by one, each witch treated his dick like a tap, pulled out what they needed, watched him ejaculate into their flask to give them that needed contribution, his contribution, to their potions. Ash returned to Easter and Buck; his mouth opened.

“Why do you hate me?” Ash asked.

“I…I don’t,” Easter said, “Not _you_ , you’re just a boy, that’s all.”

“Oh,” Ash said.

“Tina wants to see—” Easter started.

“Ash!” called a second year blond haired witch, a Hufflepuff that Ash didn’t know.

Ash went over to her, and a brunette standing nearby. Both began to play with his todger, tickled his balls, watched his todger squirt a bit harder. Ash started to really understand himself, what Harry had discovered, what the Sorting Hat had alluded to. His shyness could be abated, he temporarily gained the confidence to expose himself to others, when they gracefully played with him. Ash felt himself relaxing, getting more at ease, as he responded to the other calls for his _help_ and they teased him.

“Keep your explorations to yourself,” Professor Snape snapped at Ash.

Ash didn’t particularly mind, he felt happy by all this attention, for the first time in his life, he was the star, and astonishingly, he didn’t mind it, even with the mounting pressure from his bladder.

Professor Snape moved about the classroom, awarded points to the Slytherins, docked points for everybody else, and they cleaned up.

“Everybody knows your dick,” Buck said as they left the classroom, “How was it?”

“Awesome,” Ash said, as they went up the steps, “For once in my life, I enjoyed it and I didn’t mind.”

“You know, lets save them the mess,” Gale said as he glanced at Ash’s dribbling dick, “Go outside?”

Ash shrugged.

“Sure,” Buck said.

They turned, went out the front doors, into the modest afternoon. A breeze did nothing to clear out the clouds in the sky, however, it remained dry. They went to the edge with the trees. Buck walked a few steps in, fiddled with his right hand in his bookbag while he bent over to grab a stick. Gale’s eyes stared at the buttocks.

“Nice,” Gale said.

Buck remained bent over, wagged his butt at Gale, the balls swung, the anus bared. Buck watched between his legs at Gale approaching, Gale’s todger elongated, pushed outward, jutted forward as it neared the crack.

“Dirty,” Gale said.

“Yeah, it’s _my_ dirt,” Buck said.

Ash glanced at Buck’s filthy anus, the one that needed to be wiped as Gale rested his glans right outside the opening. It reminded Ash that his was likely filthy too, his dick certainly had been well juiced and in dire need.

“Be right over here,” Ash said as Gale started to tease Buck’s balls.

Ash walked over the short distance, to the lake. He bent over to scoop up water from the lake. He felt the hands pull him back, a foot below tripped his, and Ash fell backwards onto the muddy bank. Above him, starkers, with bottle green eyes and jet black hair, the boy of before, the one bearing the uncanny resemblance to Harry, came down fast, used the weight to pin Ash to the ground.

“Don’t make a sound,” this boy seethed, “Thought you were spoiling yourself, you just won the lottery instead.” This other hard erection of a foreskin wrapped hard cock that seemed just like Harry’s, tapped first onto Ash’s testicles, tapped Ash’s hardness. “Your _kind_ doesn’t belong at Hogwarts! No, you belong to _me_!”

“Hey!” came the faint shout from over the bank.

This invader, though, pressed on, settled the tip of an exposed glans to wedge between Ash’s buttocks, began to push onto the anus; Ash dreading the anticipation of the unauthorized pubic hair against his balls. A glint of steel flashed past, his fear quenched the misbehavior of the Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment and his bladder released as the steel blade made its slice between Ash and the invader.

“Ah…ow…” the invading boy started to utter as Ash felt the surge of warmth blanket his genitals, and Ash pissed hard as the black haired boy began to scream. This older boy stood up, the very soft cock was sliced open, almost utterly off near the base, hung by a thread of skin as Ash’s golden stream seemed to find the wound and bathed it in piss. Blood coated, matted the dark pubic hair as this invading boy held onto his cock for dear life, and ran away.

“Rats, I missed!” Buck said, standing with a bloodied hunting knife with a serrated blade, “I wanted his balls.”

“Alright?” Gale asked.

Ash glanced down at his rapidly softening penis, still pissing, and covered in blood like most of his stomach was.

“He started, but didn’t get in,” Ash said.

“Though, he will think twice,” Buck said.

“Thank you,” Ash said, “So that was what came?”

“Yeah, my parents wouldn’t send me my knife,” Buck said, “I was sort of surprised, but I wrote Dexter that I needed it.”

Gale reached down, grabbed Ash’s right hand, and pulled. Ash stood up, blood dripped from his soft foreskin. Gale wrapped his arms around Ash, held him as they begin to walk. Buck dropped his knife into Gale’s bookbag, along with its holster.

“I’m fine,” Ash said.

“I’ve got you, I want to,” Gale said.

Buck moved to Ash’s left side, held Ash up from that side. Ash was supported from both, his feet bore little to no weight, as Gale and Buck brought him back up to the castle. They entered, went up to the first floor.

“Nothing bothering you?” Buck asked.

“No, though it’d be nice to use my feet,” Ash said.

Buck and Gale relented, the weight returned, and they went along, to knock at Professor McGonagall’s office.

“My goodness,” Professor McGonagall said from behind her desk as her eyes glanced up at the three, “Explain yourselves.”

Ash spotted the mirror, saw himself, understood the concern. Dried blood, a lot of dried and darkening blood coated his abdomen, his genitals, even his thighs.

“Potter tried to rape Ash again, by the lake,” Buck said, “Fortunately, I had my knife, so I cut his todger, almost a clean amputation.”

“It wasn’t Harry,” Ash protested.

“Yes it was,” Gale said, “Potter threatened before he shoved Ash to the ground, pinned Ash before he started to shove his dick in. That’s when Buck sliced that dick, and blood went everywhere.”

“What is it Mr. Hurley?” Professor McGonagall said, “Can you be certain it wasn’t Mr. Potter?”

“No,” Ash replied. He felt dirtier than the blood on his skin, but he couldn’t be certain it wasn’t Harry. “Just that if it were, then Harry was out of his mind.”

“So, you have this knife?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“I…um…” Buck said, as Ash realized the implication of the question before Buck did, “I was tired of Ash getting raped.”

“Mr. Hurley, do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“A shower is all,” Ash said, “This is their blood, not mine.”

Professor McGonagall checked the calendar on her desk.

“Remus is … unavailable,” Professor McGonagall said, “I will dispatch Professor Tonks to investigate. Mr. Hurley, you likely wish to return to your dormitory.”

“Yes,” Ash said.

“Mr. Abbotswood,” Professor McGonagall said, “While the intention was honorable, you still had a weapon at Hogwarts, and unfortunately I am required to issue a punishment. I believe the Hospital Wing is currently empty, so go and help Madam Pomfrey double check the bedpans for the next several hours, she may even let you do a bit of homework.”

“Yay!” Buck exclaimed, unenthusiastically.

“Take care, dismissed,” Professor McGonagall said.

Gale and Ash left first, went up steps.

“Gryffindor, I presume,” Gale said.

“Buck knows the password,” Ash said.

“True,” Gale said, “Good job pissing on the jerk—rub it in his wound.”

They made it to the fat lady.

“Sir Cum–a–Lot,” Ash said. The portrait swung open. Ash knew it was a reference to him, and his recent behavior. Strangely, while it caused him embarrassment, he didn’t mind nearly as much as he should have. Instead, the Gryffindor Common Room was a bit crowded.

“What happened to you?” Finnigan asked as he approached.

“Potter,” Gale said.

“Hospital Wing!” Finnigan said, arm extended, the armpit visible up the sleeve of the T–shirt, as he pointed out the door.

“Potter’s blood,” Gale explained.

“Well, well!” Finnigan said, his eyes went wide, the grin came to his face, “Good job!”

“It may have looked like him, but it wasn’t Harry,” Ash said, feeling a bit supportive of Harry, which outweighed his desire to stay quiet.

“Please, see the truth,” Finnigan said, “See with your eyes, unless you’re a … sympathizer. There’s no in between and we don’t want sympathizers around here. So, what is it?”

“Um…” Ash muttered.

“It was Potter,” Gale said.

“Correct,” Finnigan said, “You’re heroes.”

“That’d be Buck—detention,” Gale said.

“His sacrifice is hereby recognized,” Finnigan said.

“Later, need to wash him,” Gale said.

“Wash away,” Finnigan said, “Need help?”

Ash shook his head. Him and Gale went for the stairs, climbed upward.

“Lemme guess,” Gale said, “Don’t even need to ask.”

Gale and Ash continued past the first years, went up to the sixth year boys’ dormitory, entered.

“You want Potter’s bed,” Gale said.

Gale led Ash into the shower, turned on the water. Gale grabbed the soap, knelt, and began to wash Ash’s soft todger. Ash felt the will to go stiff, but his dick protested, it was exhausted from earlier; instead, Gale gently retracted the foreskin, began to wash Ash’s glans.

“It’s…it sucks,” Ash said.

“At least Potter’s got problems,” Gale said, moving to wash more of the dried blood off.

“It wasn’t him,” Ash said.

“How can you be certain?” Gale asked.

“I can’t,” Ash said, “I…got an idea for the morning.”

“What?” Gale asked.

“What if I can prove it wasn’t him?” Ash asked, “Would you agree it wasn’t him?”

“Suppose I might,” Gale said, “It’s hard to unsee.”

“I’m not saying Harry is perfect, he’s not,” Ash said, “But just that the truth ought to matter.”

“Guess you’re right,” Gale said, “What are you going to do about the others?”

“I can’t make them see right,” Ash said, “But I can make sure I do, and I’d like to convince you.”

“Buck’s a tough sell too,” Gale said.

“Do you love me enough to try?” Ash asked.

“Does this count?” Gale asked as he leaned in, tasted Ash’s dick, “Seems alright—mostly.”

“Sir Cum–a–Lot?” Ash said.

“Congratulations on your new nickname,” Gale said as he stood.

“You!” Ash stammered.

Gale, though, handed Ash the towel. They returned to the dormitory. Ash grabbed Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6 from Ron’s trunk, climbed onto Harry’s bed.

“Behind me,” Ash said as he laid on his side.

Gale climbed on, came in close, chest against Ash’s back. Ash reached around with his left hand, felt Gale’s soft cock, teased the foreskin until he felt the hard erection, and pushed the cock between his buttocks, felt the shaft against his skin.

“Don’t go in,” Ash said, “Just leave it there.”

“O…Okay,” Gale said.

Gale’s left arm wrapped around Ash, Gale peeked over Ash’s shoulder.

“That’s not our year,” Gale said.

“Nope,” Ash said, “More, much more complicated, fascinating though.”

Ash felt the hard cock shift a bit, as Gale tried to follow his request, the tip would occasionally dig at the anus, but there was no effort to push inward. Ash knew it wasn’t their faults, understood it wasn’t his, but he couldn’t help feeling pity toward himself. A rapist didn’t kill him, but Ash still needed to know who to trust, he needed to start from beginning again. Ash wasn’t certain if Gale understood it to be a test, but Ash needed to know, and Gale was passing when the door opened.

“Guys,” Buck said as he entered, still starkers, with Tina in tow.

Gale sat up fast, his butt twisted, and his hard cock dug in, the force of himself sitting jabbed inward. Gale’s tip slipped into the anus as Tina came over.

“Oh,” Tina said, her eyes focused on the hard erection rammed into Ash’s arse.

“Accident,” Gale said as he pulled back.

“ _Right_ ,” Tina retorted, “Sorry I bothered.”

Tina left the dormitory.

“She was about to apologize to you!” Buck said to Ash.

“I’m sorry!” Gale said, “I sat up and—it happened!”

“It’s alright,” Ash said. Ash knew Gale well enough that it wasn’t anything but accidental.

“At least I made Potter pay for what he did,” Buck said.

“Thank you, for fending the attacker off,” Ash said, “I need to show you something in the morning, all I ask is you keep an open mind. Can you?”

“What?” Buck asked.

“I’ll need your knife,” Ash said, “But first…how’s Gale’s arse?”

Buck glanced, his soft todger stiffened.

“You just want to—” Buck started.

“Show me,” Ash said as Gale laid on his back.

“Go ahead,” Gale said to Buck.

Ash turned to his front, moved in close, watched Gale’s erection sway as Buck lifted the legs. Ash moved a bit closer as Buck held the legs apart, watched Buck’s hard erection push inward. Ash tickled Gale’s testicles as Buck pushed and pulled. It was as it was supposed to be to Ash, because Gale gave permission, consented, and Ash knew Buck would stop if Gale asked. Buck pulled out, placed the tip of his hard erection onto Gale’s pouch. Gale teased the shaft, as Ash watched Buck’s slit bead out the off–white fast, as Buck ejaculated onto Gale’s balls. Buck moved his freshly juiced dick, the glans smeared the white.

“Better?” Buck asked Ash.

“Yeah,” Ash said.

Buck climbed into the bed, pulled the covers over them. Ash remained as he was positioned, rested his head on Gale’s thigh, leaned in, smelled the musk of Buck, the seed of the one who had stopped it for Ash, a fine smell all things considered.

Ash started to drift, he contemplated the attacker. He wasn’t certain how much magic could fix, but Buck’s knife did considerable damage, and Ash realized it gave a chance to convince his friends. Could that rapist’s dick even be saved?

* * *

“Aw…aw…careful!” the Seeker snapped as he laid on a bed earlier that evening.

A mediwitch carefully held the severed penis into position, her wand emitted an orange glow as it painstakingly worked reattaching the treasured member of his anatomy.

“So, it’s true,” the Keeper said as he entered the room, “You ought to have been more careful, because not all of the blood was able to be cleaned up before that _changeling_ got there. I know your fondness for tight holes, but your perversion nearly spoiled the entire operation—what if you had passed out and your identity discovered? Poor choice.”

“It was supposed to be easy!” the Seeker said, his fingers toyed with his wand, “Little runt talked to nobody, but apparently that mute did have a friend!”

“Even the daftest of dolts will catch on if you _repeat_ yourself,” the Keeper said, “Find a new act or I’ll tell our Lord that you’re deliberately scuttling our designs.”

“I…” the Seeker stopped as his crumpled erection firmed up and began to ejaculate. “Warn me! _Crucio_!”

The Mediwitch withered on the floor, before she got back up.

“Don’t go _anywhere_ ,” the Keeper said to her, “Tend to your patient.”

“It’s shorter than before!” the Seeker complained, pointed to his semen covered shaft.

“I can only work with the material given,” the Mediwitch said.

“ _Avada Kedavra!_ ” the Seeker said.

A flash of green, the Mediwitch fell to the floor, dead.

“Good mediwitches are tough to find,” the Keeper said.

“That’ll teach her,” the Seeker said.

* * *

Ash woke Thursday morning, still on Harry’s bed with both Gale and Buck there, all starkers.

“Finally,” Buck said, “Gale said you wanted this.”

Buck handed Ash the long bladed knife. Ash felt the weight of it in his grip.

“Just keep an open mind, I think you’ll understand what I mean,” Ash said.

“When?” Gale asked.

“It’s not like he’s prompt with his schedule,” Ash said, “We’ll still make class, if you’re worried about that.”

Ash glanced at the pair of Firebolts leaning against the wall.

“Just sit around the bed, we won’t give him a chance to move, alright?” Ash asked.

“You mean Potter?” Buck stammered.

“I’ve got the knife,” Ash said, “He’s just super–hiding, so he’ll show up, here.”

A few minutes later, they saw Harry appear, starkers, and land on the bed.

“Ash!” Harry snapped.

Gale and Buck pinned Harry down, they leaned over, stared at the dark pubic hair while Ash lifted the soft penis, rotated it. Gale and Buck inspected it as Ash pushed into the softness.

“No scars,” Ash said.

“I’ve got one scar, up here!” Harry snapped.

Buck and Gale nodded.

“In a moment,” Ash said as he rested the blade of the knife on Harry’s stiffening dick.

Buck turned, stared at Harry’s bottle green eyes.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked.

“Never mind,” Ash said as he removed the knife.

“What are you three doing here?” Ron asked, also starkers along with Hermione standing next to him.

“Just leaving,” Ash said as he, Gale, and Buck got off the bed. All three grabbed their bookbags and left the dormitory, went down the stairs..

“You just had to—” Buck started.

“What did you think?” Ash asked as they entered the first years’ dormitory.

“That one was intact, no scar,” Gale said, “You left one hell of a gash, Buck.”

“That could’ve been an impostor,” Buck said.

“So what about the one last night?” Ash said, “He could’ve been the impostor, right?”

“I suppose,” Buck said, “But a skilled healer could’ve put his dick back on.”

“He did not flinch,” Ash said, bringing the knife up into view, “Dunno about you, but if my dick were cut off—”

“I’d have killed ya,” Gale said.

“Alright, alright,” Buck said, “You’re certain that’s the real one?”

“That one, upstairs, is the Harry that _I_ know,” Ash said, “As to the other, castrate him.” Ash handed the knife over to Buck.

“Can I?” Gale asked as he held up a change of Ash’s clothes.

“Sure,” Ash said as his stomach grumbled, “I think I’m okay to the Great Hall.”

“Still going about starkers?” Buck asked as he dressed.

“Yes, why not?” Ash said.

Ash left the dormitory, bookbag slung over his shoulder. He entered the common room, glanced at the bulletin board where the picture of his butt defecating resided, and walked out of the room, through the portrait hole, and walked along the seventh floor corridor.

His dick stiffened as he entered the Great Hall. Ash walked between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables when he felt the hand grabbing his butt.

“Sit,” Tina said.

Ash sat next to her.

“Hi, I’m Tina,” Tina said, “Sorry, I was a bit rude with you, expecting you to fault Potter.”

“Harry’s innocent,” Ash said, “Somebody with a missing or mangled todger is the culprit.”

“I heard,” Tina said, “Just keep that to yourself, I do like you, and you are cute.”

“Thank you,” Ash said.

“I did a bit of reading,” Tina said, “Anything with your house crest counts as a uniform. Here.”

Tina got out a piece of parchment, held it to Ash’s right breast, pressed it on, and pulled back. A Gryffindor lion was now adorning his skin.

“It’s like you’re the quietest, shyest person ever,” Tina said, “Get you starkers, and you’ll talk, a bit. Well, your skin does you good, keep it up.”

Tina reached down, massaged Ash’s hard shaft, teased the foreskin, and he felt the spasm, ejaculated onto the floor below. She grinned.

Ash knew where he belonged, was here, as a first year wizard, at Hogwarts, starkers for he was more comfortable this way. They knew him, even if he didn’t really want them to. They had started to know and love him, and Ash felt a lot better.


	47. Explosive

“A bit envious?” Ron asked as a starkers Ash walked along the first floor corridor, later that Thursday morning.

“It’d be nice—but it’s Hogwarts,” Harry said.

“Brave after what’s supposedly happened,” Hermione remarked.

“How’d I’m supposed to know?” Harry stammered, “At least it wasn’t _my_ todger!”

“He _is_ safe, for now,” Hermione said, “I mean, they can’t work up the believable fiction if they’d rape, again, today.”

“True, there is that,” Harry said.

They climbed the stairs, entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

“Somebody needs to teach that kid better aim,” Harry said as he put his head down onto the classroom table.

“Excuse me?” Hermione asked.

“I’ll give him explicit permission to take my impostor’s things,” Harry said, “I mean, if it looks like me, I should be able to, right?”

“I’m not sure how it works, legally,” Hermione said, “I suppose not in your favor.”

“In other words, typical,” Harry said.

“Mr. Potter,” Professor Tonks said as she came into the classroom, approached Harry, “Can we discuss your whereabouts yesterday afternoon?”

“Not here,” Harry said.

“So I need to schedule an appointment?” Professor Tonks asked.

“Not now,” Harry said, “Can we have the lesson?”

“Five points for your insolence,” Professor Tonks said before she went to the front.

“Bite me,” Harry muttered. To be accused of what he’s been accused, it had gotten on his nerves.

“At least the kid believes you,” Ron said.

“Should I stand up and announce _my commute_?” Harry whispered, “Old man would be inundated with requests, each one with their own creative excuse. Hogwarts is a boarding school, take that away, and it’s different.”

Professor Tonks turned over the board.

“Today, an essay,” Professor Tonks said, “A little consideration. Suppose you have another wizard, who you believe is about to do great harm, say, committing suicide, or about to perform a Killing Curse. Would it be ethical to use the Imperius Curse to stop them? I look forward to reading your arguments, either for or against.”

“Why fret Potter?” Finnigan said, “Just let her blow you as she’s talking about changing your diapers—easy marks! Wait, your dick isn’t, by chance, a bit sore, is it?”

“My todger’s doing just fine,” Harry grumbled.

“Considering its overuse,” Malfoy said.

The class chuckled and laughed.

“Do your assignments,” Professor Tonks said.

“Potter!” Macmillan said, “Her office!”

“Harry Potter!” Professor Tonks said, “Come with me.”

“Whoo!” exclaimed Lavender Brown.

Harry got up, walked up the steps, into the office. Professor Tonks shut the door.

“I do need to know where you were yesterday, after classes,” Professor Tonks said.

“Ask Dumbledore,” Harry said, “He can vouch—”

“I need to hear it from you,” Professor Tonks said, “A very serious allegation was leveled at you—”

“I’ll make this quick,” Harry said as he dropped his trousers, pulled out his dick. “It was supposedly amputated—clearly, it’s not.”

Professor Tonks leaned in, close, used her wand while inspecting the softness beneath the jet black pubic hair. Harry blushed for a moment as his cock began to stiffen into a hard erection, and Professor Tonks’ fingers felt in.

“Feels attached—” Professor Tonks said.

“Because it _is_ ,” Harry said.

“Just blow it already,” Finnigan said as he opened the door.

“I’m done,” Professor Tonks said.

“You’re next,” Harry said to Finnigan.

“Here, get mine!” Finnigan said to Professor Tonks, made to unzip his fly.

“Five points taken!” Professor Tonks exclaimed.

“Rejected,” Harry said to Finnigan.

Harry, though, stepped out of his trousers around his ankles, walked back into the classroom. Harry walked to the front desk, pushed up, and knelt on the desk occupied by Ernie Macmillan and Padma Patil.

“To quash the rumors about the integrity, take a close look,” Harry said, “My todger’s fully operational.”

Harry’s left fingers curled around, teased his foreskin as he began to stroke. Harry sifted through his thoughts in his head, many times with Gia, some with Hermione and Ron. However, Ash’s persistent play, keeping the air innocence seemed to work the best. Harry felt the spasms, the quenching, as the pressure built and released. Harry’s bead of off–white flew out, left a trail of small puddles on the desk.

“There, it works,” Harry stated.

“Just means Madam Pomfrey did a fine job last night,” Macmillan said, “You got lucky.”

“Congratulations on ducking that responsibility,” Finnigan said as he came down the steps.

“Because I didn’t do it!” Harry stammered, “No evidence.”

“We had evidence,” Finnigan said, “Three eye witnesses, one covered in _your_ blood from your…erm, wound.”

“Anybody follow _me_?” Harry asked.

“They reported it, immediately,” Finnigan said.

“It was not me,” Harry said.

“Liar,” Finnigan retorted.

“Get bent,” Harry said.

“A threat?” Finnigan asked.

“Mr. Finnigan, Mr. Potter, get to work,” Professor Tonks said, “Don’t risk a zero on an incomplete assignment.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Finnigan replied.

Harry sat at the desk with Ron and Hermione, left his trousers to the side as his balls hung over the edge of the bench, supported his softening todger.

“Valiant try,” Ron said, “Went about as well as you’d expect.”

Harry sighed.

“They’re so quick to judge but so hesitant to refute,” Harry grumbled.

“If you want Potter,” Malfoy said, “I’ll show everybody a _real_ dick!”

“No need to see your crumple–horned snorkack,” said Anthony Goldstein, a Ravenclaw.

Ron laughed.

“Think that’s funny?” Malfoy asked.

“Hilarious,” Ron replied.

“Focus on your assignment!” Professor Tonks snapped.

“So, it’s Potter and Madam Pomfrey too,” Parvati Patil said.

Padma snickered.

* * *

“See?” Ash said to Buck, sitting on the other side of Tina to Ash’s right, “Told ya.”

Buck finished pulling off his trousers in History of Magic.

“Those are different,” Tina said as she glanced at Buck’s jockey style orange underwear.

“Thought I’d try something different,” Buck said, “Besides, once you let it free—”

“It wants to stay free,” Ash said, glancing at Gale’s hard erection sticking out of his fly, to Ash’s left.

“Is it really that uncomfortable?” Tina asked.

“Yes,” Ash said.

“See?” Buck said as he pushed the leg of his underwear to the side, let his balls out, just the balls, while the todger remained. “Much more comfortable.”

“Keep it like that,” Ash said, glancing at the two lumps dangling free.

“Alright,” Buck said.

“You’re much more interesting than…” Tina’s eyes moved to the front, watched Professor Binns mumble.

Ring!

Buck shoved his trousers into his bookbag before he stood up. His bollocks hung free out from the edge of the fabric, while the stiffy of the tent pole was hidden beneath it.

“I’d go to lunch with you, but Professor Flitwick is having lunch with the first year Ravenclaws,” Tina said.

“See ya,” Ash said.

Tina kissed Ash on the cheek, left.

“That…hold still,” Gale said.

Rest of their classmates left the classroom, leaving Buck, Ash, Gale, and Professor Binns still lecturing.

“Yeah,” Ash said, staring at the balls dangling free, unblocked, both lumps clearly defined.

“What?” Buck asked.

“Sexy,” Ash said.

Buck blushed.

“What he said,” Gale said as he stripped.

Ash moved Buck’s hips, made him sit on the table. Ash knelt between the parted legs, leaned in, licked the scrotum. Ash’s tongue pressed, tasted the scrotum, felt the testicles, to the one who had stopped the assault yesterday. Ash smelled the typical ripeness of Buck’s genitals, a heavenly fragrance in light of Buck’s heroics. Buck laughed.

“Need me to bang him?” Gale asked as he fitted his Hufflepuff tie back around his neck, to be his only garment.

“I like it,” Buck said as he lifted himself, pushed his underwear off.

Ash moved back enough as the fabric passed, let the hard erection rest against his cheek as he continued to tongue wash the bollocks.

“You’re wanting me to bang?” Buck asked. Buck stripped his shirt off, secured his tie back around his bare neck.

“Um…” Ash took a moment before he hopped to his hands and knees on the desk, “Yes.”

Ash knew it had been soon, very soon since he had been raped, but he channeled the lesson he had learned at home, from the examples of his deadbeat father and Colbert, don’t let the coward win. Buck, Gale, had become dear friends, and letting them use him became a welcome part of their friendship; Ash wasn’t going to let that go without a fight. He focused on Gale’s hard cock, the one Gale was starting to stroke, as he felt Buck’s tip navigate the arse. Buck pushed inward.

“And?” Buck asked.

“Well, go ahead,” Ash said. Ash tried to keep the frustration out, he didn’t want to spoil the passion, but also understood Buck’s concern given recent events, and appreciated that Buck didn’t want to harm Ash.

“He said _yes_ ,” Gale said.

Buck’s hard shaft pushed further inward, drilled. With each one, it reminded Ash of the friendship, the deep friendship he had with Buck, willing to lend his arse to him, to have the choice, the control, that the rapist had denied. Buck reached around, started to work Ash’s hard erection.

“Don’t spill me,” Ash said, “Saving it.”

Buck’s hand pulled back.

“Tina?” Gale asked.

“Maybe,” Ash said. Ash wasn’t certain, he had another in mind, figuring he could always wank at dinner if need be.

“You want to,” Gale said.

Ash glanced beneath himself, saw the clear liquid dribbling from his own hard dick, the sign that his dick was eager, his natural lubricant, similar to what he felt along Buck’s cock as it moved across the anus. Ash’s muscles held tight around Buck’s cock as Buck held it inside Ash. Ash felt the pumping as Buck sighed, knew Buck was making the deposit. Gale’s slight erupted in the off–white. Ash had to actively change his focus, will his own cock as it started to spasm, to think of the pain of the rapist, the humiliation of taking a dump in front of his housemates, and squelched the desire.

“Oh, you so wanted to,” Buck said as he felt Ash’s dick.

“I thought it was about to,” Gale said.

“It wanted to,” Ash said, “But, I want a bigger mess—later.”

“My butt’s available if you change your mind,” Buck said.

Gale’s stomach growled.

“Lunch,” Gale said.

“Go upstairs?” Ash said, “Dump those hideous clothes.”

They left the classroom.

“Harry—consider how you look to others,” Professor Tonks said as Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the other classroom down a different corridor, their voices carried; Harry’s trousers still off, leaving his thick black pubic hair hanging out.

“What’d you think I tried to do?” Harry exclaimed, “Would they even consider an alibis?”

“I’m hungry,” Ron said.

Buck crashed into Ron as they collided in the junction of the corridors.

“Nice dress code,” Hermione said, her eyes flirted to take in the three first years, mostly starkers except for the ties of Buck and Gale.

“Lemme try it,” Ron said.

“First years have a certain charm to them,” Hermione said, her eyes glanced at the soft todgers of Buck and Gale before she settled on Ash’s hard erection.

Buck and Gale blushed.

“Hey, Ash,” Harry said, “Thanks for believing in me.”

“No problem,” Ash said.

“And you—” Harry’s eyes landed on Buck, traveled the length of the Gryffindor tie before the green eyes locked onto Buck’s brown, “Must be the one with the knife.”

“I was the one,” Buck said, “Not any more as far as the teachers are concerned.”

“Thank you for protecting Ash,” Harry said, “If it’s one thing we’ve learned at Hogwarts, you gotta watch out for yourselves. And, if you catch that perp again, keep your eyes on the perp, and make sure you fix him, for good.”

“We’re not saying we fully believe you,” Gale said, “Simply we’re willing to give you a chance, because Ash insisted.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, “It’s just October, doubt it’s the end of it.”

“Hello,” Ron said as he got out his Firebolt, “Lunch!”

“Yeah,” Harry said as he retrieved his Firebolt.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione left.

“They’re headed up to the dormitory too,” Buck said.

“Yep,” Ash said.

They rounded the corner, to come face to face with two second years and Theodore Nott, with their black robes and Slytherin emblems on those robes.

“What did you say about Potter?” Nott asked.

“That we should wait to hear the full truth,” Buck retorted, his brown eyes gazed upward at this sixth year Slytherin.

“Wrong answer,” said Finnigan, a few steps behind the Slytherins.

“That wasn’t Harry yesterday,” Buck said.

“You now doubt your own eyes?” Finnigan said, “Have you spent years sharing a dormitory with him, to hear how he’s supposed to be special? Yes, a rather special pain in the arse, as your friend’s found out, first hand! If we’re to even have a chance of standing up to the teachers, to convince them that protecting Potter isn’t keeping us safe, then we must band together, to unite, and perhaps they’ll listen to reason when they’re not being porked by him.”

Ash shook his head.

“You doubt us?” Nott demanded of Ash.

“He won’t talk to _you_ ,” Buck said.

“He’s our friend,” Gale said.

“A little lesson,” Nott said, as the two second years smiled.

“Just a moment,” Finnigan said, “This is the silent one, but also the one being attacked by Potter, so he deserves to understand this clearly so the lesson will stick. There are only two types of people in this castle, those that sympathize with Potter, or those that are willing to stand up to his tyranny. You’re either for or against Potter, there is no middle ground. You wouldn’t want to be considered a sympathizer, would you?”

“No,” Buck said.

“Good,” Finnigan said, “Sympathizers will find no refuge with us.”

Nott grabbed Buck’s tie, held it toward the knot as the fist came down.

Thump!

Nott handed the tie off to a second year Slytherin, while the other grabbed Gale’s. Nott put his arm around Ash’s neck.

“A little pain to remind you,” Finnigan said, “Let us hear the right answer!”

“Speak!” Nott demanded of Ash, tightened the choke–hold.

“He won’t talk to you,” Buck said.

“Then you,” Finnigan said, “What’s your answer? Is Potter a crook?”

“Yes,” Buck said.

“Yes,” Gale said.

“Will you convince your friend?” Finnigan asked.

“Yes,” Buck said.

“Good, let us not hear anything about this again,” Finnigan said, “Let them go.”

Nott, the others, released their grip.

“Remember, we’ll be watching, listening,” Finnigan said, “Don’t disappoint.”

Gale, Buck, and Ash left. Ash broke out, ran, up the steps, left Gale and Buck behind. Ash made it to Gryffindor tower, went up the steps, and nearly went past the first years’ when he thought about it, best to not be seen in Harry’s bed, and instead, went into the first years’ dormitory. Ash crashed onto his underused four poster bed, cried into the pillow.

“I’m sorry,” Gale said as he entered the dormitory, Buck with him, several minutes later.

“We had to,” Buck said.

“You _caved_!” Ash stammered.

“They threatened to snap your neck!” Buck said as he rubbed Ash’s buttocks, “I don’t want that to happen, alright?”

“I trust Harry, not them,” Ash said.

“Don’t let them hear you,” Gale said.

“You’ll rat—” Ash started.

“No!” Gale said, “I swear, here, hold my balls if you’re unsure.”

Ash turned over, his hand felt Gale’s loose testicles.

“But you promised them—” Ash said.

“I can lie to them, and I did,” Buck said, “Because they’re not my friends. You are.”

“Ta,” Ash said, “But they need to understand the truth.”

“They refused to listen,” Gale said.

“As long as they refuse to listen, they won’t hear us,” Buck said, “You know the truth, the most likely truth, and so do we.”

Ash sighed.

“Tell ya what we do,” Buck said, “You said Potter likes to go around starkers, like you seem to do.”

“Call him Harry,” Ash said, “Yes. It’s simply better between friends.”

“Then, I tell you what we’ll do.” Buck grabbed the loose Gryffindor tie on Ash’s trunk, wrapped the long strip of cloth around Ash’s neck, slowly started to move it as he began to tie it. “In public, we’ll swear whatever to survive. But, we’ll stay starkers so that way you know that we still believe you, believe that Harry’s alright. We’ll right the wrongs where we can, seed the doubt to those who need it, fight what we can fight, and rely on you to show us the true Harry Potter.”

“Thank you,” Ash said as Buck finished tying the Gryffindor tie.

“You look splendid,” Gale said.

“Just understand that I’m not up for suicide,” Buck said, “If the fight’s too much, we’ll cave and fight another day, alright?”

“I guess so,” Ash said.

“And to whatever you might think,” Buck said, “Keep your mouth shut and we can cover for you, alright?”

“Yes,” Ash said.

“Lets get some lunch,” Buck said.

Ash got up. None of the three in their ties noticed the disillusioned twinkling blue eyes that watched, that heard their little agreement; instead, they left the dormitory. Ash quickly regretted not using the lavatory, but decided the company was more important, a little discomfort was acceptable.

“This still feels weird, a bit,” Gale said.

“You’re—” Ash glanced at Gale, the tie pointed straight down to the swinging todger, “Handsome.”

They made their way down to the Great Hall; Ash’s bladder was full, but his stomach demanded food first. Eyes glanced at them sitting to either side of the Gryffindor table. Ash helped himself to the macaroni and cheese as Tina came over, sat next to Ash.

“For somebody who hates to be noticed, you’ve got a funny way of going about it,” Tina said.

It took Ash a moment before he could swallow another laden fork of the lunch.

“I’m better for it,” Ash said, softly.

“I’ll enjoy the classes,” Tina said, “Cute boys, how could this go wrong?”

“Dunno,” Ash said, quietly, “You could join us.”

“No,” Tina snapped. “Sorry, I meant it’s not for me.”

Tina’s right hand reached down, felt Ash’s soft todger as he ate. Ash’s bladder overrode the urge to stiffen, kept him soft as he worked the peanut butter sandwiches.

“You’re starkers, what if you have to use the lavatory?” Tina asked.

“What happens if you’re dressed?” Buck asked.

Tina took a moment.

“I’m starkers,” Ash whispered to her, his eyes glanced down to see his soft penis over the edge. He retracted his foreskin and began to urinate.

“Ash…” Buck muttered.

“Sorry, my suggestion,” Tina said to Buck.

Finnigan and Macmillan came over while Ash was still pissing beneath the table.

“So, do you swear to ally with the right people?” Finnigan asked, “Help us deal with Harry Potter?”

“Well?” Macmillan asked.

“We swear,” Buck said.

Gale nodded.

“He’s the quiet one,” Finnigan said.

“Ash swears too,” Buck said.

“See?” Macmillan said, “I told you they could be reasonable. First years are like that.”

“I stand corrected,” Finnigan said as he and Macmillan moved to join the sixth year Hufflepuffs.

* * *

“You ought to just show up starkers,” Malfoy said that afternoon as Harry entered the Transfiguration, “Make things easier than having to drop trousers, a little alteration to her robes, and it’d make for many quickies. Imagine your marks soar then.”

“Shut up Malfoy,” Harry said as he took his seat. Ron and Hermione sat next to him.

“I do not know what all you have heard,” Professor McGonagall said as she entered the classroom, “It is unacceptable for any member of staff to demand or accept sexual favors from any student. If you have witnessed, or been subjected to, this behavior, please write down as much as you can remember as you make out a formal complaint, and submit it to which ever member of staff you feel most comfortable accepting such complaint. Rest assured, any valid complaint will be acted upon.”

“Watch out Potter!” Finnigan snapped.

“Rules don’t apply to him,” Macmillan said.

“Rules apply to everyone,” Professor McGonagall said, “Including Mr. Potter. Now, please get out some parchment as we go over today’s lesson so you can take some notes.”

Professor McGonagall waved her wand, the chalk began to write as she explained. Quickly, Harry dipped his quill into the inkjar and began to doodle as he tried to listen.

Hermione glared at Harry for a moment as a broom emerged from the scratchings, a crudely drawn guy with a todger and a lightning bolt scar flew with a large breasted starkers girl holding on to him. She returned her focus to Professor McGonagall despite Ron jabbing her in the side.

Harry glanced at Ron on the other side of Hermione, who returned the grin. Harry kept doodling as he tried to listen to the lesson.

Ring!

“Wait,” Professor McGonagall said, her hand raised, as the students started to go for the door.

Professor waited for the students to stop.

“Given the events of the last visit of Hogsmeade,” Professor McGonagall said, “Parental reauthorization will be required for Saturday’s visit. I apologize for the tardiness of the delay, I suggest you owl your parents immediately. I have the forms here, please return them to the head of your house.”

Harry waited until the others went past and grabbed the new forms.

“Mr. Weasley, I’ll likely see your father tonight,” Professor McGonagall said, “I can handle it.”

“Ta,” Ron said as Hermione grabbed a form.

Harry took a quill to a form, signed his name, _Harry Potter_ onto the blank fo the form, dated it. Hermione rolled her eyes, Ron gaped.

“That’s not going to work,” Ron said.

“Why not?” Harry asked.

“This is a bit redundant for you,” Professor McGonagall said.

“I authorize myself,” Harry said.

Professor McGonagall sighed.

“Good day,” Professor McGonagall said.

They left the classroom.

“She bought that!” Ron said, “I’m beginning to agree with Finnigan, when were you last in her quarters?”

“Ron!” Hermione said, “His legal guardians are supposed to sign—Sirius works in a pinch.”

“With the Durleys—” Harry said, “Did I forget to tell you I got myself emancipated at the end of the summer?”

“I don’t understand,” Ron said.

Hermione, though, grinned.

“Good one,” Hermione said.

“What is it?” Ron asked.

“Rights an an adult,” Hermione said, “He’s doesn’t need guardians, though he’s still liable to the underage magic restriction. Well, I need to get to the Owlery, then I’ll head to the library.”

Ron kissed her. Ron and Harry mounted their Firebolts, flew out of the window into the clouds surrounding the castle. They fought the wind, flew into their dormitory, the door slammed shut.

“Funny wind,” Harry said.

Harry dropped his trousers, removed his shirt, stood starkers. He walked into the bathroom, wiped his arse, glanced at the filth on the paper before he wiped again.

“For the record, I preferred starkers too,” Ron said as he put his Quidditch Robes on.

“We can’t,” Harry said as he held the white briefs. He dreaded the thought of putting them on, but he had to, the other team members had long since stopped tolerating or respecting, he couldn’t keep handing them reason to hate, they had plenty as it was. “Ow…ouch.”

“Suppose you could drop Quidditch,” Ron said.

“Never,” Harry said, “I’ll bear it.”

Harry put on his Quidditch Robes.

“Ready?” Ron asked.

Harry and Ron went back out, flew low, until they dipped below the top of the clouds, the ground still clear, and made it to the Quidditch Pitch.

* * *

Buck twisted his hips as he walked, waved his erection at Tina.

“There’s more to you guys than just that, right?” Tina asked.

“Of course there is,” Ash said, “Still, like it?”

Tina’s eyes moved, glanced at the hardness jutting outward, swaying against smooth skin, as Buck walked.

“Shit,” Gale said, “My wand’s missing.”

“Where?” Buck asked.

“Charms, I think,” Gale said.

Gale turned around. Buck followed Gale. Ash, however, continued with Tina to the seventh floor, and they came to the Fat Lady.

“Hole in one,” Ash said to the portrait, it moved.

Ash and Tina entered the Gryffindor Common Room, a couple of third years were at the tables. Ash sat on the sofa, let the low heat soak in, loosen his testicles, while Tina sat next to him.

“It’s like your todger is your central feature,” Tina said, “Cute and all.”

“Fun to play with, super fun,” Ash said softly, “Even more fun when it’s more than just me.”

“So, that’s what you’re up to,” Tina said.

“I have used it, properly,” Ash said, “There’s more to it than that. Aren’t you the least bit curious?”

“I am,” Tina said.

“Have you had a period?” Ash asked.

“No!” Tina said, upset.

“Interested in trying?” Ash asked.

“Hmph!” Tina exclaimed.

“Tell me exactly what you’re thinking,” Ash said, “I don’t read minds. I try, but nope.”

“You just want to have sex,” Tina said.

“I want a friend first,” Ash replied, “Though sex would be good.”

“Knew it,” Tina said.

Ash leaned over, kissed her on the cheek. Tina smiled. Ash wrapped his arm around her back, pulled her in tight, hugged her. Her mouth went to his ear.

“Trying?” Tina asked, softly.

“Interested?” Ash replied, quietly.

“Here?” Tina asked, “We’d get into trouble—”

“It’s our house,” Ash said, “School rules aren’t explicit here.”

“Wonder why,” Tina said.

Tina pulled Ash as she leaned over. Ash brought his lips to hers, kissed. His hands massaged her shoulders before he worked down and kissed her neck. She felt Ash’s testicles and hard cock looming over her.

“I’ve never done this before,” Tina whispered.

“Pretend like you have,” Ash replied.

“Suppose I need to—” Tina started to reach for her shirt.

“Let me,” Ash said.

Ash worked the buttons on her shirt as they were laying on the sofa, ignored the small group of people coming in. No brassiere was underneath, instead, Ash teased her nipples, felt them to erect on the small mounds. He kissed her, again, before he pushed the front of her skirt down, her panties onto her thighs. Ash laid on her, rested his hard erection until the tip touched her clitoris.

“Doing alright?” Ash asked, quietly.

“Yes,” Tina replied.

Ash’s left fingers teased the clitoris, he flexed his hips upward enough for the tip to move downward, and he pushed it inward. His left hand returned to her breast as he brought his mouth to hers. His tongue touched hers as he flexed his hips. Ash had was experienced, with Andy, so he knew better than to go especially fast, his first priority was satisfying her. Ash found it therapeutic, like sex with Buck or Gale, to help crowd out the memories of the rapes, it helped, for a short while, to cast them aside, to take control of his own body, to let it help his friends feel better. Ash shifted his weight slightly, made his cock move to the side, because while he wanted time to properly explore, he was in the Gryffindor Common Room with his housemates and didn’t want to loiter too long. Ash heard her breathing change as he slowly drilled, felt the tension, the bearing down, as it started to trip his own hard cock, one that Ash had no intention to stop.

“Ash!” Buck exclaimed.

For a second time that day, Ash felt his dick about to release, first time he deliberately withheld, this time, it was a fast reaction to pull out. His cock settled down as Gale and Buck came over.

“Try your bed,” Gale said.

Ash became aware of the eyes, glaring with disapproval at Ash and Tina. Tina hurriedly restored her clothes, went out the portrait hole.

“Guys!” Ash said, glared.

“Miss. Reed,” came the familiar voice from outside.

A common panic became shared, Gale and Buck were first for the stairs. Others behind them, cutting off Ash from the escape. Steps upward.

BANG!

Smoke, screams, and a flash of bright light accompanied the loud blast that left ringing in Ash’s ears. Ash’s housemates laid motionless on the stairs as Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape entered the Gryffindor Common Room.

“Everyone away from the stairs!” Professor McGonagall shouted.

Bloodied faces showed those injured, as several second year boys limped away. Professor Tonks and Flitwick entered the common room. Together, Professor McGonagall conjured up stretcher after stretcher, while Tonks tread carefully as she moved the listless ones onto the stretchers. Professor Flitwick banished the laden stretchers out of the room. Professor Snape began to inspect the stairs.

“One at a time, carefully,” Professor Snape said.

“For those uninjured, Great Hall, now!” Professor McGonagall snapped at the loitering students.

Ash gasped as two stretchers carried Buck and Gale, both motionless, limp, emerged. Ash bolted, chased as fast as he could, but the stretchers were faster, two of a dozen that went fast, down the stairs, to the Hospital Wing. Professor Sprout was there, administering a potion to Dennis Creevy, eyes lucid, accepting it, as Madam Pomfrey was hovering over Buck.

“What in the name of Merlin possessed anybody to do something like this?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“Minerva and Severus are looking into it,” Professor Sprout said, “Blame is already going around—I’d curse Mr. Potter if I could.”

Professor Sprout turned to Gale, adjusted the bandage on him.

“Fortunately, I think they’ll make it—this time,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Ash came to stand next to Buck, looked at the severe brusing on the head, the chest; noted that Madam Pomfrey hadn’t even bothered to cover him up, though the dick was limp. Ash reached, grabbed Buck’s hand; also limp, but warm, with a pulse; he held it.

“What are you—?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

Loyalty for Buck, the desire to be with his friends, had summoned enough courage for him speak.

“My friend!” Ash protested.

“Are you injured?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

Ash shook his head.

“Then volunteer to clear out some bedpans…” Madam Pomfrey said.

Ash shook his head.

“Get out, visiting hours will be announced in the morning,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“Will he make it?” Ash asked.

“He’ll be sleeping until the morning,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Get out.”

Ash loitered at Gale.

“So will he,” Professor Sprout said, “They’re being kept in a coma until tomorrow.”

Ash left the Hospital Wing, however, his mind loitered on Buck laying helpless there. His emotions start to well up, his friend was just fine before he stepped onto those stairs, unaware—it was unfair. Ash didn’t want to go to the Great Hall and do what he needed, he had the urge to go to one particular spot, but teachers were likely in the way—the thought of Andy crossed his mind. Ash went down to the ground floor, entered Oliver Wood’s office, where a Comet broom was in the rack.

“It’ll just be temporary,” Ash said to the broom, “One flight.”

Ash grabbed it, went out, into the courtyard. It was still overcast, cloudy around the castle, the mist nipped away at his warm, added a slight chill. Ash mounted the broom, hesitated, before he remembered. Ash teased his testicles, let the erection up, before he pushed off.

“Whoa! Whoa!” Ash exclaimed as the broom bucked, wanted to make him regret the choice.

Ash was pulled up into the clouds surrounding the castle, his hard cock rubbed against the handle.

“No—not now!” Ash muttered as he felt the spasm.

Perhaps the threat worked, Ash wasn’t certain. He nearly collided with the top of the Astronomy Tower, worked his way over, shakingly, before he came to Gryffindor Tower. He peered in to the common room where Professor Tonks stood guard at the base of the stairs. Ash drifted upward, to the top dormitory, the sixth years’ boys’, with the windows cracked open.

“This would be it,” Professor Snape said as he held up a jar of white liquid, set it onto a tray that Professor McGonagall held.

“How much is there?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“The word _overkill_ never seemed to enter Potter’s vocabulary,” Professor Snape as he removed another jar from Harry’s trunk.

Ash held to the ledge of the window, stabilized himself on the shaky broom, aware it was the only thing keeping him afloat as the wind threatened to carry him off, but he didn’t want to risk entering, not yet.

“This was uncalled for,” Professor McGonagall said as Professor Snape emptied Ron’s trunk of the similar jar, “My office is more neutral.”

“Neutral?” Professor Snape said, “The office to the head of Gryffindor?”

“I am not in a good mood,” Professor McGonagall said.

Professors McGonagall and Snape left the dormitory, closed the door. Ash grabbed the window ledge, got himself halfway over it as the broom slipped. Ash managed to throw himself in as the broom flew away. Ash crawled on the floor, climbed into Harry’s four poster bed, drew the blankets over himself, and cried into the pillow.

* * *

Darkness started to creep in when the whistle came out.

“Everybody, time to wrap this up!” Oliver Wood announced, Professor McGonagall stood next to him.

“You heard him!” Ron shouted.

Harry flew down to Ron, nearly started to go back up.

“Ahem,” Oliver Wood said, “Walk back.”

Harry dismounted, glanced at Professor McGonagall’s stern, unhappy face.

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley,” Professor McGonagall said, in a firm voice, “Follow me.”

“What’s the surprise?” Ron asked as he and Harry followed her up the hill.

“That is not funny,” Professor McGonagall said.

They entered Hogwarts, went up to the first floor office. Professor McGonagall closed the door behind them. Puzzlement overcame Harry’s face as his eyes focused at the items on the desk. In the middle were a number of jars, half were full of a milk white liquid, the other half merely coated in a residue of the same liquid. Professor Snape was standing beside the desk with a familiar glare upon them, a glare that was accompanied with a stern disapproving look from Professor McGonagall.

“Recognize them Potter?” Professor Snape asked, dryly.

While Ron’s eyes moved from Professor Snape to the prey, Harry kept his eyes focused on the accuser.

“Containers of milk, I suppose,” Harry said, “Recommend refrigeration—”

“Observe,” Professor Snape ordered.

Professor Snape dipped a blank piece of parchment into the liquid, laid it down upon the desk, where they watched it rapidly dry. After a moment, the dried liquid left a fine white varnished coating upon the parchment. Professor Snape grabbed a quill, tossed it onto the parchment, and the quill touched the parchment.

BANG!

Fragmenting shards of parchment billowed upward from the flash and noise of the small explosion that left spots in their vision and ringing in their ears. Professor Snape’s finger pointed to the scorched burn mark where the parchment had previously laid upon the wooden desk.

“These jars, Potter,” Professor Snape said in a firm and cold tone, “Were found in both of your trunks. You covered all of the stairs of Gryffindor Tower, a stunt that sent a dozen of your house mates and one Hufflepuff boy to the Hospital Wing. Would you care to explain?”

“I am disappointed in Gryffindor,” Professor McGonagall said, “I, too, am waiting.”

Harry had two pairs of eyes trained at him, but Ron caught them choosing the one that had habitually been friendlier, focused directly at Professor McGonagall’s.

“We did NOT do this,” Harry said, “I have no—”

“We have irrefutable evidence—” Professor Snape said.

“Which you undoubtedly planted—” Harry said.

Ron’s eyes darted, chimed in, trying to diffuse the growing animosity. “Anybody witness—?”

Professor Snape’s glare brought the young Weasley into silence. He gripped a vial nestled in his robes.

“Can anybody significant verify your whereabouts for the day—?” Professor Snape asked.

“THAT’S—” Harry protested as his face grew redder.

“The Minister will—” Professor Snape said.

“DOING VOLDEMORT’S DIRTY WORK?!” Harry yelled, “YOU’VE WANTED ME EXPELLED FOR YEARS!!!”

Harry stopped to catch his breath under Professor Snape’s studying eyes.

“Get a grip on your temper—” Professor McGonagall said.

“WHY SHOULD I?” Harry yelled, “HE’S FOUND A WAY TO MAKE HIS DREAMS COME TRUE! CONGRATULATIONS!”

Snape grabbed a filled jar and lifted it up.

“Unequivocal proof—” Professor Snape said.

WHOOSH!

In a sudden surge, the white liquid swelled up and lunged. Like throwing paint, the liquid splashed and soaked Harry’s Quidditch Robes. Professor Snape drew his wand.

“Don’t move—” Professor Snape warned.

“HURRY UP!” Harry yelled, “VOLDEMORT WILL BE PLEASED!”

BANG!

Harry’s Quidditch robes disintegrated, his white T–shirt and briefs were singed with burnt brown spots, spots that continued to enlarge, his todger was starting to show. Harry shook for a moment, blinked, and shook his head. Professor McGonagall blinked for a moment at the teenager.

“Severus!” Professor McGonagall scolded, “What have you done?! Assaulting a student—Albus must be informed—”

Professor Snape sunk back slightly, eyes were wide upon her.

“I would never—” Professor Snape protested.

“Seems to me that you just did,” Ron said, seizing the opportunity, “You clearly had the opportunity, the motive, the method, and two eyewitnesses to the assault—unless your intentions were of a sexual—”

Harry scowled at Ron, Professor Snape glared.

“Take me for a fool?” Professor Snape said, “Extortion—”

“Conjecture,” Ron replied.

“Fifty points for digging your grave—” Professor Snape sneered.

“Severus!” Professor McGonagall snapped.

Professor Snape went silent.

“I am seeing Albus immediately,” Professor McGonagall said, “Mr. Potter, the stairs in Gryffindor Tower have been cleared, so you should return there to remedy your situation.”

Professor McGonagall walked quickly, left the office door ajar as she departed. Professor Snape turned his glare onto Harry and Ron.

“Your Head of House may be buying your load of bollocks,” Professor Snape said, “I am not. Potter, you’ve—”

“Professor McGonagall?”

Leading the charge through the door, Ginny opened and entered with an entourage behind her. All eyes of the intruders quickly glanced from either Professor Snape or Ron and focused upon Harry standing in front of Professor Snape as the brown spots of the white fabric of the underwear finished dissolving away any protection, which left Harry standing starkers with a firm erection.

Ginny’s eyes traced what she saw, with Harry’s hard cock jutting out, the foreskin retracted, one that Harry had taken no time to hide, with the slit plainly visible to Professor Snape in front of him; his balls saddled in the loose scrotum hanging low beneath the dark pubic hair.

Professor Snape’s eyes turned upon the intruders, Ginny was with a small entourage including the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

“Boning up on Potions—?” Josh Brenner asked.

“Sorry…” Ginny muttered as she started to retreat.

“Wait!” Ron said, recognizing the opportunity, “Snape suggested he’d expel us unless Harry complied—”

Mutterings erupted among the Gryffindors.

“Go!” Professor Snape barked.

“You were being a bit obvious,” Oliver Wood said to Professor Snape.

Wood moved fast, vanished from the glare, as Harry led the way out of the office. Harry’s cock swung, unabashed, as he walked. Ron caught Ginny’s eyes studying Harry’s hard erection, his bare buttocks, but realized she deserved a bit of fruit for her grand entrance.

“We could use company, sis—” Ron said.

“Why’d you say that?!” Harry demanded.

Ginny sped then kept pace> Her eyes kept darting at Harry, studied the nipples, the bangs that never rarely his legendary scar.

Ron shrugged. “Seemed the best way to save face—”

“By CONFIRMING EVERY DAMN DIRTY RUMOR?!” Harry yelled.

“Sorry,” Ron apologized.

Harry broke out in a run, his buttocks flexed as his thigh muscles worked, and his toes gripped the stone floor. He quickly ran out of view, so neither Ron nor Ginny could see him.

“And you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of!” Ginny shouted down the corridor.

“Gin!” Ron snapped.

“Should he and his girl ever split—” Ginny said, “With his todger, he’d have his pick—”

“You aren’t supposed to—” Ron started.

“Saw yours in action—remember?” Ginny said, “I don’t see what Hermione likes—”

“Prat!” Ron shoved Ginny.

Ron and Ginny came to the Fat Lady.

“Bang,” Ginny said.

The portrait moved, they entered.

“Coming to finish the job?” Finnigan asked.

Ron ignored him, went up the stairs, Ginny followed. Hermione glanced up from the table as Ron entered the sixth year boy’s dormitory, she was starkers.

“Rotten luck,” Hermione said, “Not sharing Harry’s new Quidditch uniform, are you?”

Ron felt the need for the shower, pulled off his Quidditch robes first, before he pulled off his T–shirt.

“Did you hear—?” Ginny asked.

Hermione shook her head. Ginny describe the scene of Harry standing starkers in front of Professor Snape.

“You must have seen it wrong,” Hermione said.

Roasted turkey appeared on the table.

“She saw it,” Ron said, now standing starkers with his red pubic hair on display, “Dinner.”

“Professor Snape is not going to live this down for a long time,” Ginny said, “You eat up here—?”

“All the time,” Hermione said, “It’s too dangerous for us.”

“Your absence is proof of guilt,” Ginny said, “Or so Dean Thomas said.”

“It’s simpler this way,” Hermione said as she swirled her cup of pumpkin juice, “How much would it take to convince them otherwise? Could we do it in time not to starve first? I’m sure they’ll twist the thing with Snape, even with the history of bad blood against Harry.”

“Eating up here has _other_ benefits,” Ron said.

“Such as—?” Hermione started, before her eyes caught Ron’s beneath his grin, “What?”

“I’m sorry, I totally forgot the appetizer,” Ron said as he surveyed her breasts.

“I’m intruding—” Ginny started.

“Stay, see your brother in action,” Ron said, moving Hermione’s butt to his lap, his erection nestled between her thighs.

“Really,” Ginny said, “Colin’s visiting his brother in the Hospital Wing, I best be going.”

Ginny left.

“You’re serious?” Hermione asked.

“Yes,” Ron said, “Essay topic, can you eat while having sex? We’re all eager to find out.”

“You’re pushing,” Hermione said.

“You’ll want to work on your essays after supper,” Ron said, “Let you make the most of your time, stand up.”

Hermione stood, bent over the table as she worked the soup. Ron stood behind her, threaded his hard erection into her velvet lined vulva.

“You certainly had to find out,” Hermione said.

“Keep eating,” Ron said.

Hermione tried a sandwich as Ron drilled. Ron flexed his hips, knew her patience would be thin, made it fast, adjusted as he could, until he pushed and held inward. Ron felt the release as she began to bear down within. Ron pulled out, his softening cock dripped with white.

“Satisfied?” Hermione asked.

“Much,” Ron said, “Ta.”

“So, what do you think will happen because of today?” Hermione asked.

“Potions will get even more tense,” Ron said, “Professor Snape’s not going to be happy.”

* * *

“Headmaster,” Professor Snape said as he entered the office within the twoer, “I had nothing—”

“Severus!” Professor Dumbledore commanded just after Professor reached the desk.

“Albus! We cannot tolerate—” Professor McGonagall said.

“Patience!” Professor Dumbledore waited until both Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall stopped their mumbling under their breaths. “It seems that we have two incidents. The first concerning the manufacture and placement of the harmful substance. The second is regarding Severus’ behavior toward Mr. Potter. Am I correct?”

“Yes, Headmaster,” Professor Snape said.

“This explosive, it was found on the steps of Gryffindor Tower,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Is this accurate?”

“Yes, Headmaster,” Professor Snape said.

“Unequivocally yes,” Professor McGonagall said.

“This liquid and its associated paraphernalia were found in both Mr. Potter’s and Mr. Weasley’s trunks, right?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“Yes,” Professor McGonagall said.

“Under normal circumstances,” Professor Dumbledore said, “If these were normal students, I would concur with expulsion, or if sufficiently plea bargained, an extended suspension. Do the both of you concur?”

“Yes, Headmaster,” Professor Snape said, as dry as usual.

“Unfortunately I would have to agree with my colleague,” Professor McGonagall said.

“These are not normal students nor normal circumstances,” Professor Dumbledore said, “There are many parties, including students in this school, desiring the removal of Mr. Potter and his friends from these corridors. As I understand it, their trunks were found to have been locked?”

“Yes, Headmaster,” Professor Snape said.

“Yet we know they generally keep them unlocked, right?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“Yes, Headmaster,” Professor Snape said.

“There is sufficient evidence to suggest that they are being framed,” Professor Dumbledore said, “This is not the first time this occurred, is it?”

“I am uncertain,” Professor Snape said.

“I apologize Albus,” Professor McGonagall said, “I got caught up, seeing the young members of my house, I forgot to use reason.”

“Please see to the press release,” Professor Dumbledore said to Professor McGonagall.

“Of course,” Professor McGonagall said. She left.

Professor Dumbledore turned his blue eyes back to Professor Snape.

“Severus,” Professor Dumbledore asked, “Are you aware of anything further from other people?”

“As I said last month, Headmaster,” Professor Snape said, “They have desisted explicitly targeting Potter.”

“You mean just for his murder?” Professor Dumbledore said, “Of what has happened so far, it’s clear they wish to tarnish Mr. Potter’s image, erode his support. Exactly how this fits into their grander plans, I’m left with guesses, but none are cheerful to say the least. The only way to counter is to have unequivocal proof, even if it only convinces his schoolmates here at Hogwarts, that is where we’ll have to begin.

“No, Mr. Riddle does intend to kill Harry. For, in the end, Mr. Riddle’s aspirations leave him with no choice in that outcome.”

* * *

Harry and Ash landed in Gia’s bedroom, heard the soft sucking sound. A couple feet in front of them were the distinctively male buttocks, the testicles beneath, of Nate with his hard cock jutted downward into the lace of Gia. Nate’s hands caressed her bare breasts, teased, while the mouths were together, kissing. Nate’s hips flexed, the shaft moved.

Harry wondered if Ash understood the reaction, not doing a thing as Nate was clearly boning Gia. Instead, both Harry and Ash merely watched as Nate held himself in for a moment, before Nate pulled out a moist circumcised todger that was dripping with off–white semen.

“Hi Harry,” Gia said.

Nate shuddered, did a fast roll over.

“I—” Nate started.

“Relax,” Harry said, “Gia, did he ask? And you said—?”

“You were late and we had teased all day,” Gia said.

“You’re fine,” Harry said to Nate, as Nate stood up.

“I was expecting a different response,” Nate said, “We’re cool?”

“I don’t own her, nobody does,” Harry said, “She’s gorgeous, beautiful, friendly, a great lover, and quite charming. I trust in the love we share.”

“Brave,” Nate said, “And he’s—?” His eyes fell to Ash, with the hard erection, like Harry had. “A club, Gia, you’re really up for this?”

“I’ll manage,” Gia said.

“She likes 'em,” Nate said, “Later.”

Nate walked out of the bedroom. Harry glanced at Ash’s expression.

“Gia and I simply have an open relationship,” Harry said to Ash, “I think it’s good, forces the trust, the love, to be deeper, and expressing that love, sharing it, makes us stronger in every sense of the word.”

“I get it!” Ash said, “You’re not exclusive, that’s fine!”

Ash rubbed his buttocks, went for the bathroom.

“He?” Gia asked.

“Was really shaken up at school,” Harry said, “Another _incident_ , got two of his friends there. He asked, so I let him come.”

“Have you had something to eat?” Gia asked.

“NO!” came Ash’s reply.

“I wanted to bang,” Harry said.

“Food,” Gia said, “You must eat, and I want to hear what happened today, first, before I consider your request.”

Gia got up, gently tugged on Harry’s hard cock, led him out and down the stairs. Ash followed. Gia first went into the kitchen, where Ash and Harry watched her stick the left over delivery pizza into the microwave, turned it on.

“So, what happened?” Gia asked.

“Dunno exactly,” Harry said, “Got accused of—”

“I was there,” Ash said, “I nearly had Tina—” Ash explained the events, including shagging Tina, including the explosion and seeing them remove the injured.

Gia brought the heated pizza and soda out to the table. She sat across from Harry and Ash.

“Guess where the surplus explosive was stored?” Harry said, “If you said, my trunk, you get the booby prize.” Harry sighed. “Snape got it onto my Quidditch robes.” Harry explained that.

Gia laughed.

“It’s not funny,” Harry said.

“It didn’t go any further?” Gia asked.

“NO!” Harry exclaimed.

Ash giggled as he stood, his erection still firm. Gia studied it.

“It’s attracting girls, isn’t it?” Gia asked.

“Yeah,” Ash said, “Wanna try it?”

“Maybe,” Gia said, smiling.

Ash walked toward the door, when Andy entered, and she was starkers.

“Make any for—” Andy’s eyes landed on Ash. “Hello.”

“Hi,” Ash said.

“Look,” Andy said, “I’m sorry.”

Andy moved fast, pinned Ash against the wall, her lips planted onto his, while her hand skillfully moved the tip of his hard cock to her vulva, and she stepped closer. Ash’s hard shaft immersed itself inside her. His eyes went wide, his hands planted themselves onto Andy’s breasts, and he pushed with his arms. Andy stumbled backward as their hitching came apart.

“You cut it off,” Ash said, “I’m sorry, but it’s over; I didn’t come here for you, never will.”

Andy ran off, stomps on the stairs, and pouts were heard.

“Tough,” Gia said, “Kristen would approve.”

“The mother, right?” Ash asked.

“Yes,” Gia said, “Why did you come?”

“Dunno,” Ash said.

Harry kinda understood, Ash’s buddies were in the Hospital Wing and how Madam Pomfrey could be at times.

“Full?” Gia asked Harry.

Harry nodded. She brought their plates into the kitchen, followed them back up the stairs, into her bedroom. Gia closed the door.

Hoot!

“Hi Hedwig,” Harry said as he gave her an owl treat. Stroked her feathers.

Harry turned around, Ash was laying on his back with his cock jutting upward. Gia was inches away from Harry’s, her eyes on it.

“It’s nice, I want it,” Gia said, “But, maybe a drawback to the open relationship, I’m a bit…tired.”

“So, Nate over—” Harry started.

“ _You_ are the one I want to sleep with, be with,” Gia said, “So relax, just realize we’re exploring, with its ups and downs. I…watch.”

“I’m open,” Ash said.

“Um…” Harry stuttered, very aware of the very recent allegations.

“Now, I am curious,” Gia said.

Gia ran her hand on the underside to Harry’s stiff erection, the gentle rub encouraged him to kneel on the bed, approach Ash.

“Come on,” Ash said, as he turned over, on his hands and knees, pushed his butt toward Harry’s dick, aimed until the anus was right on Harry’s glans, and stayed there. “Please?”

Harry gripped Ash’s hips, slowly pulled, and Harry’s hardness slipped inward.

“Better?” Gia asked.

“Yeah,” Ash said as Harry’s shaft was fully immersed, “It’s the _real_ Harry.”

Harry suddenly understood how Ash was about to spot the other for an impostor, because they _had_ done it before, Ash knew the difference with however the impostor liked to fuck. Harry got a few pushes, pulls in.

“There,” Ash said.

Harry pulled out.

“Lay down,” Gia said to Harry.

Harry got onto his back, laid flat, as Ash crawled on his hands and knees. Ash’s blue eyes loitered on Harry’s. Ash laid down, chest against chest, Gia brought their hard cocks together as Ash finished. Harry felt Ash’s smaller dick press down onto his, the smaller balls nestled against his, the stomachs together, Ash’s nipples against Harry’s chest.

“There,” Ash said as he wrapped his arms around Harry, held on tight.

Harry felt the other fingers, Gia’s, tease the testicles. Harry had tried to understand this eleven year old on him, five years younger than himself, this boy who took comfort in Harry’s presence. Harry knew he had fans, but this was different, a boy who took Harry on as a mentor, a big brother, a boy who learned to express himself after Harry figured the boy out.

“Thank you,” Ash said.

Harry felt it, the tremor in Ash’s stiffness, a tremor that became contagious. Harry felt the little dick begin to pump, tripping his own. Stickiness, hot stickiness, swelled up between them both, Ash’s spread across the tip of Harry’s shaft, joined in Harry felt his own orgasm commence.

“Variety,” Gia said.

Harry was unsure to who was ahead, as they both surged, let their loads out. Their breathing allowed for enough gaps for their seed to migrate up their skin, their semen loosely bound them together, for a little while. Ash breathed deeply.

“Yeah,” Ash said, “I needed that.”

Ash relaxed a bit as Gia pulled the covers over them, slipped in herself. Gia didn’t disturb Ash, left him to begin snoring inches away.

“How you treat the little ones is of importance too,” Gia whispered, “I do love you.”

“He does too, apparently,” Harry said.

“He needed a big brother, and you delivered, perfectly,” Gia said. She leaned in, kissed Harry. She threw a shoe at the light switch, nailed it, and the lights went out.

* * *

Ash entered the Hospital Wing Friday morning.

“I’m fine!” Buck snapped as Madam Pomfrey aimed her wand at Buck, standing there, starkers as Ash preferred.

Ash felt the hands around his neck, staggered as the legs wrapped around his waist.

“Guess who?” Gale asked as his hard dick touched the middle of Ash’s back.

Ash wrapped his arms around the legs, held on.

“I wish you’d reconsider,” Madam Pomfrey said.

“Nope,” Buck said as he pulled his tie around his bare neck, began to tie it. “My mind’s made up.”

Ash glanced, saw the Gryffindor tattoo on Buck’s bare breast.

“Breakfast?” Gale asked.

Buck and Ash left the Hospital Wing, Gale on Ash’s back, and they started down the stairs.

“I wish Potter—” Buck started.

“Shh!” Ash said, “If one’s being framed for rape, it’s also possible he’s being setup for this.”

“See my penis?” Buck asked as they stopped in the Entrance Hall, Buck faced Ash, and was starkers except for the Gryffindor tie, the erection jutted outward. “Remember that.”

“Thanks,” Ash said.

“A bit funny,” Buck said, “Overheard some debate—we’ve been registered as a protest. Did you?”

“No,” Ash replied.

“I’ll take it,” Buck said, grinning.

Ash smiled.

“Protest it is,” Gale said as he got down. Ash noticed the Hufflepuff tattoo on Gale’s bare chest.

Together, the three entered the Great Hall. Ash noticed the eyes as they walked, fewer seemed concerned, fewer glanced despite them being as starkers as they previously had been, perhaps their schoolmates were simply getting accustomed to it.

“Here,” Tina said.

Together, the three sat next to her, at the Ravenclaw Table.


	48. Doubt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was an accident, I swear, didn’t mean to accidentally promote Ash to a semi–major character! However, it **is** useful in portraying the student interactions within Hogwarts.

Harry massaged his dick as he closed the green door of 26 Oak St, walked to the sidewalk, the street lights were still lit.

“That was fast,” Richard said.

“Just had to return the kid,” Harry said, as he felt the stiffness of his erection jutting out.

“Love running with that stiffy,” Richard said.

“So?” Harry asked.

Harry had ignored the loo, as had become habit, let the pressure build, waiting as his hard cock swayed as he ran in the moderate temperatures. Richard’s soft circumcised todger flopped beneath his brown pubic hair as he joined in. Richard, though, started to piss as he ran, it hit the pavement below them. Harry smiled at the silver haired lady, the eyes studied them, as had become habit.

“So you really were accused of—?” Richard started to ask.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “I fucking hate it. I mean, I was in class all day, at Quidditch Practice, so when would I have had the _time_? That didn’t matter, it was in my trunk, so of course, I **MUST** be guilty—so said the Arsehole King of all Hogwarts. Didn’t matter that it hurt thirteen others, why’d that matter?”

Harry sighed as they came to a halt, by the road where she was waiting. A red haired girl, about their age.

“Hi Lisa,” Richard said.

“And?” Lisa asked.

“Yeah, just a moment,” Harry said as Lisa stood next to Harry, as her eyes focused down.

Harry held his hard cock, forced his bladder to squeeze as she watched him retract his foreskin. She smiled as his slit pushed out the golden stream, he peed. Harry studied her smile, let out his grin, as he knew his dick, his pissing hard cock, brought her a bit of joy. She watched as he shook the last few droplets out.

“See ya’ in class,” Richard said.

“Ta,” Lisa said.

Harry turned around, ran backward, her eyes focused on his swinging loose testicles until he had to turn around to navigate the corner.

“So…predictable,” Richard said.

“What can I say?” Harry said, “She likes it.”

“I know,” Richard replied.

Harry appreciated the insight that Gia had given him, through dare and prodding, that he felt more private being starkers in the muggle world then he could ever be in the wizarding world. Here, letting everybody see his jostling balls felt less intrusive than any Rita Skeeter interview.

“A blizzard, a dildo, raping your friend, and this?” Richard said, “That goes back to just last week. I’d be mad if it were happening to me.”

“It’s a symptom of a bigger problem,” Harry said, “Here, out here, you research for evidence, and determine guilt or innocence based on what the facts say, right?”

“That’s how it’s supposed to work, and typically does,” Richard said, “Mum could tell you tales of some of the exceptions, where it failed, but generally, yes.”

“There, the wizarding world, it’s more about appearances,” Harry said, “Evidence is tough to acquire when you can just magic it away, so it’s more hearsay, conjecture half the time. And so it’s turned against me.”

“I’d be pissed too,” Richard said.

“Yep,” Harry said, “That kid—he’s like the only one supporting me back there, of the students, that’s why it stunk that he got raped. While I’m glad he figured it out, the others around him ignored his assertions, and fingered me for it.”

They came to a stop for a stop light, the pedestrian signal blocked their path as the commuting cars rolled past. Richard spread his legs, leaned forward.

Pfffpt!

Harry glanced at the brown sludge that moved out of Richard’s anus, fast, the droppings fell.

“That’s a shitty situation,” Richard said.

As fast as Richard started, he stopped, clenched his buttocks as the light turned in their favor. Leaving the calling card behind, Richard and Harry ran.

“Sorry, bad pun,” Richard said, “Guess you don’t protect against those, do you?”

“Could’ve been the runs,” Harry said, “Hermione’s tried explaining the subconscious magic, it’s…it’s…think of body odor, I mean, Gia loves the smell of my armpits.”

“Jen’s smelled mine,” Richard said.

“It’s just around me, small conditions that make it more favorable, to me,” Harry said, “Apparently, my thirst for nudity worked its way into my … body magic. Ash—that kid—apparently has caught it too.”

“Saves time to take a dump on the run,” Richard said, “Thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome,” Harry said, “I’ll take advantage of it shortly.”

“That kid loves you too,” Richard said.

“He—I don’t really understand him, not all the way,” Harry said, “Seemingly, it does him good, and how can I say no?”

“You could try,” Richard said, “If Mum caught you—”

“I just hope my body magic’s up to that job,” Harry said.

“That’s the only thing that’d save you,” Richard said.

“It _is_ helping him,” Harry said, “I’m not going to stop if he doesn’t stop asking. He **is** more confident.”

* * *

Tina paused at the door to the first floor lavatory, before she continued on.

“I thought you had to—” Ash started.

“That one’s always full,” Tina said, “I know a better one—warned it was, like, super haunted.”

“Ha!” Ash said as he followed her up the stairs.

They came to the second floor girls’ lavatory.

“A girl died in here,” Tina said.

“Then you _definitely_ need me,” Ash said as he followed her in.

Tina glared as she entered the cubicle, Ash followed. He closed the door, leaned back against it.

“I needed to do private stuff,” Tina said.

“You’ve seen mine,” Ash said, “I’m curious.”

Tina lowered her trousers, pulled her blue lace panties down, and sat. Ash focused, watched the clitoris and the dark vulva between her legs.

“This is…” Tina started, her face blushed. Her eyes focused on Ash’s genitals dangling a foot in front of her.

“You can do it Tina!” Ash said, “A bit of cheerleading?”

“Yeah, right,” Tina groaned.

“Close your eyes then,” Ash said, “If I can get over it, so can you.”

“True,” Tina said.

Tina, though, leaned in, placed her nose between Ash’s scrotum and his thigh, inhaled several times. Tina began to relax, sat back up, with her eyes focused on his balls. Yellow began to stream out of her vagina, and Ash’s todger stiffened, very fast. Tina glared at Ash’s hard cock.

“It—” Ash started.

“My, my!” said the pale ghost that came up through Tina, Moaning Myrtle grinned. She reached for Ash’s hard dick. “This tells you that the boy really, really, really, likes you.”

Plunk!

“Who are you?” Tina asked.

“Myrtle,” the ghost said, “Though people poke fun at me, call me Moaning.”

“Oh,” Tina said.

“He’s a quiet one,” Myrtle said, as her hand went through Ash’s balls, “Cute, handsome, interested.” Her hand went through Ash’s hard cock.

“He’s trying to talk me into going starkers,” Tina said.

“Why don’t you?” Myrtle said, “Oh, the teasing you could do.” Myrtle sat on the toilet, Tina still there, and joined in the admiration of Ash’s hard erection a foot in front. “Oh, the view. If only I could’ve gotten Oliver to have done that.” Myrtle leaned forward, put her mouth around Ash’s glans.

Ash hadn’t been blown by a ghost before, it was cool, and didn’t quite work.

“He’s doesn’t like ghosts,” Myrtle said.

Ash blushed.

“He wants me to go starkers, show support for Harry Potter,” Tina said.

“Oh Harry?” Myrtle said, “He was just as cute at his age, he’d never undressed. I imagined him so.”

“You know Harry?” Tina asked.

“Harry’s a good boy,” Myrtle said, “Oh, somebody is having fun at his expense, I can see it in the plumbing.”

“Harry’s not doing this all?” Tina asked.

“None what so ever,” Myrtle said.

“Who?” Tina asked.

“I don’t know the names, they never introduced themselves to me,” Myrtle said, “Never visited me in my bathroom, in my cubicle.”

“Oh,” Tina said.

“If going starkers shows support, then going starkers is what I’d suggest you do,” Myrtle said.

“Alright,” Tina said.

Tine moved her trousers down.

“We must do something about this,” Myrtle said, her head moved toward Ash’s erection.

“Really?” Tina asked.

“You’re starkers with this?” Myrtle asked, “I suggest relieving him.”

Tina pulled her shirt off, let ther chest bare, before she put her Ravenclaw tie on. She leaned forward, let Ash’s glans into her mouth.

“Need help?” Myrtle asked, “Tongue works wonders.”

Ash felt her breath as Tina’s tongue worked his glans, the shaft. Tina’s cheeks warmed the whole, while Myrtle teased the testicles. Ash felt the stimulation work fast, felt the pressure, the release.

“It even works,” Myrtle said as Tina pulled back and Ash’s slit was dripping.

Tina spat.

“Yes, it does,” Tina said, “He’s been showing it off.”

“Who are you?” Myrtle asked Ash.

“His name’s Ash,” Tina said, “He’s a shy one.”

“Shy?” Myrtle asked, her eyes surveyed his loose testicles, “Doesn’t seem shy to me.”

“A walking contradiction,” Tina said.

Tina wiped her butt, her vagina, and secured her clothes into her bag. She stood up, glanced at Ash’s softening penis.

“Oh…ooh, today’s going to be memorable!” Myrtle said.

Myrtle went into the toilet, down into the U–bend. Ash opened the door. Together, Tina and Ash left the bathroom.

“Thank you,” Ash said to Tina.

“I’m trying it out, one day _only_ ,” Tina said, “Fuck, did I just commit to the day?”

“Yep,” Ash said, “It’s not so bad, once you get used to it.”

They went up to the third floor, entered the classroom five minutes late.

“Where were you?” Buck asked Ash.

Ash simply smiled.

“This doesn’t mean I believe you,” Tina whispered, “Just means I’m giving you a chance.”

* * *

“Good morning Harry,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Hmph,” Harry grumbled, sitting on the easy chair in the Headmaster’s office.

“I understand the atmosphere of Hogwarts is not conducive to your well–being,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Instead, try to focus on those boys.”

“Ash?” Harry asked.

“He’s not lost his faith in you,” Professor Dumbledore said.

Harry had already figured that out the previous night, where Ash was content sharing the orgasms.

“He’s persuaded his two close friends to believe in you,” Professor Dumbledore said, “However, they don’t share your strength to publicly declare it. Instead, they’ve chosen to go starkers, as that’s rumored to be your favorite attire.”

“I…uh…not at Hogwarts,” Harry said.

“A little youth never goes out of fashion,” Professor Dumbledore said, “So, I understand Professor Tonks gave you an essay about a possible ethical use of the Imperius Curse, may I read it?”

Harry dug into his bookbag.

* * *

Ash felt her fingers explore his hard erection beneath the table in the library. Tina’s eyes, though, were focused upon Buck’s retracted foreskin as Buck was standing to the other side, Gale nearby.

“You’re not starkers to support Potter,” Tina said, “You’re starkers so you can go running around with your dicks out.”

“Not lying,” Ash said, “Though, it’s got a certain appeal to it.”

“He loves Potter,” Gale said.

“Because I don’t think he’s doing anything wrong,” Ash said, “It’s his body double’s fault. I mean, this is a school of _magic_ , surely there’s ways to do it?”

“But all those things?” Tina asked, “Hogsmeade?”

“Framed, so Harry responds to screams, comes out at the wrong time,” Ash said, “Assaults…if I can impersonate you, say once, why can’t I do it again and again? Ask a second or seventh year, how could you impersonate…potions, spells? Heck, even muggles have ways of getting it close.”

“Ash, look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do,” Tina said, “You’re cute, so you can get away with it, but I can’t. I gotta…sorry, gotta leave.”

Tina got up. Ash watched her bare buttocks flex as she left the library.

“Better luck next time,” Buck said.

Ash’s eyes focused on Buck’s hard cock as the hand stroked it, watched the off–white semen squirt out and leave a trail of puddles on the wooden table.

“You had fun,” Gale said to Buck.

“Yeah,” Buck said.

Ash glanced up to the vanishing blemish, a reminder to Buck’s collision with the stone from the explosion the previous afternoon.

“Disgusting,” said a pair of second year Ravenclaw girls, nearby, “How could she even _think_ Potter as nothing but a disgrace?”

* * *

“What are you still doing here?” Finnigan demanded of Harry, as they queued up for Potions.

“Excuse me?” Harry asked.

“People hurt, people killed, all because of _you_ ,” Finnigan said, finger pointed at Harry, “If it weren’t for _you_ being here, none of this would be happening! I don’t feel secure in my own house, my own bed, because of _you_! I thought we meant something to you, guess that was just another lie from you.”

“Buzz off!” Ron exclaimed.

“Why it’s Potter’s puppet!” Macmillan said.

“You’re deluding yourselves if you think the teachers will act,” Malfoy said.

“Who’d you bang last night?” Thomas asked Harry.

“None of your business,” Harry said.

“Snape?” Parvati Patil asked.

“That is _Professor_ Snape,” Professor Snape said as he came along, “Do _not_ discuss my personal life which does not include Mr. Potter. Ten points from Gryffindor.”

“Likely the least stressful point of this lesson,” Ron said to Harry.

“Thanks Ron,” Harry said.

“Watch your temper,” Hermione said.

“I try to,” Harry said.

They entered the Potions classroom.

* * *

Tina pulled Ash aside as he left Transfiguration that afternoon. He glanced at her Ravenclaw uniform, the tie, the colored jumper.

“I’m sorry,” Tina said, her eyes on Ash’s scarlet and gold Gryffindor tie, the only thing on him.

“I…” Ash drifted off. Her school uniform, it now came across as wrong.

“Don’t tell me I have to strip,” Tina said.

“Ma…maybe,” Ash muttered.

“You’re—you’re—” Tina started.

“Me,” Ash whispered.

Ash grabbed her hand, pulled her down the stairs, outside, onto the grass beneath the partly cloudy skies. He turned around, gripped her Ravenclaw tie.

“May I?” Ash asked.

“I can do it myself,” Tina said.

Tina undid her tie, her shirt, her trousers, pulled off her clothes, stuffed them into her bookbag. Her eyes focused on Ash’s stiffening dick.

“Of course you’d like _that_ ,” Tina said, “Can we hurry so I can use the loo?”

“You are pretty,” Ash said, his eyes glanced at the breasts starting to blossom, the clitoris on the hairless vulva. A ray of sunlight illuminated it and his hard erection. “Even better.”

Ash pulled, they began to walk.

“Like I’ve got myself figured out—not,” Ash said, “I’m still me, being starkers helps.”

“Ah,” Tina said, “I wasn’t lying about the loo.”

“Lets find a spot to practice our cleaning charms,” Ash replied.

“You’re an animal,” Tina said.

“Yep,” Ash said.

They approached the trees, entered. Tina squatted.

“You’re going to watch, aren’t you?” Tina asked.

“Yeah,” Ash said, “I’ve learned a lot from Harry. You are who you are, accept it—that includes using the loo. I accept you as a friend, so it’s not offensive for your body to do what it has to do.” He watched the brown sludge move out of her. “Privates are better shared _with_ friends.”

“That’s weird,” Tina said.

“Harry’s weird too, cool but weird,” Ash said, “Here.” Ash spun around, leaned forward, glanced between his legs to see Tina staring right back, and he pressured his bowels, the clenching caused his own brown droppings to tumble out onto the mat of fallen golden leaves. “Me, giving a shit.”

“Weird,” Tina said.

“Mind cleaning?” Ash asked.

Tina pulled her wand out of her bookbag, aimed. Ash felt the scouring action, reached and examined the clean results. Ash turned around as she did, aimed his walnut wand, and cast it, the brown stains vanished around her anus.

“Okay,” Tina said as she stood back up.

They stepped around their piles, left the trees, and walked around the edge.

“Harry’s weird but he’s taught me a lot,” Ash said, “I cherish my friends, I trust you enough, starkers, that I’ll take a dump, am I wrong to trust?”

“I don’t think so…no,” Tina said.

“I’ve been with the real Harry, starkers,” Ash said, “I trust him and he trusts me. I feel safe with Harry around, especially if we’re starkers.”

Tina stopped, faced Ash; he faced her. She held his hands.

“As much as I fear Potter,” Tina said, “I fear the others more. You’re cute, you’re handsome, you’re sweet, but I can’t keep hanging out with you starkers, it’ll attract attention.”

“But we _are_ starkers,” Ash said.

“Sorry, I can’t,” Tina said. She quickly dressed back up, left. Ash sat on the grassy bank that overlooked the lake.

Ash thought he had her, another Harry supporter, instead, she’s gone. Ash grabbed a stone, threw it in.

Plink!

Ash grabbed his dick, his face moved downward, watched himself toy with his foreskin; the advantage of going starkers, he could play with himself. Ash stared at the slit, let the bladder release, and watched the golden stream pour out.

“There you are,” came the familiar voice.

Ash glanced up, saw Buck standing there, the stiffening dick hanging there, which became even more reassuring as Tina had just left. Ash got up, bent over, and pushed his buttocks back toward Buck’s crotch.

“Please,” Ash said.

“Sure?” Buck asked.

“Yeah,” Ash replied.

Ash felt the stiffness push between the buttocks, the wedge that entered the anus, and Buck began to drill. A hardness within him, helped him focus, as Buck pulled out a slobbering hard dick.

“Better?” Buck asked.

“No,” Ash replied before he sat back down on his sore arse, “Thank you.”

Buck sat cross–legged just to Ash’s right. Ash grabbed Buck’s big toe, wiggled it.

“Tina—not a believer,” Ash said.

“It’s a war of reputation,” Buck said, “Not everybody’s a winner.”

“I know, I thought—Ravenclaw, she ought to have brains,” Ash said.

“We’re just first years,” Buck said, “That’s what they think of us—you, you’re getting away with going starkers; Gale and I can pass it off. But a random girl? She’s been getting a tough time over the little bit she did. You’ve heard me having to swear allegiance to them, it’s the same for all of us.”

“True,” Ash said.

“She’ll keep,” Buck said.

“I hope so,” Ash replied.

Buck reached, teased Ash’s foreskin, tickled the glans. Ash began to laugh, reached over, and pulled Buck over. They rolled down the bank.

Sploosh!

They fell into the water, tumbled. Buck sat on Ash’s stomach, as Ash had his legs in the water. Ash felt the surge of warmth as Buck peed.

“Gross,” Ash said.

Buck grinned as Ash wrenched. They rolled a bit further into the mud.

“Gotchya!” Buck exclaimed, back on top.

Buck rolled them both into the water. They splashed for a moment, rinsed the mud off, and walked out.

“Nice thing with going starkers, it washes nicely,” Buck said.

Ash grabbed his bookbag and they went back for the castle.

“Yep,” Ash replied.

* * *

“No hard feelings?” Nate asked Harry, both starkers next to side of the pool.

“None,” Harry said, “I’d be lying if there were zilch, still, it’s okay.”

Harry slipped into the chlorinated pool, felt the stinging in his eyes, pushed off. He knew how to swim, however, Nate pushed off and was way faster in the next lane. Harry reached the end, turned around, swam back. Gia was laughing when Harry returned.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Give him—” Nate moved and whispered into Gia’s ear.

Gia, though, floated her body upward, her legs wrapped over Harry’s shoulders.

“And?” Gia asked.

Harry lifted her hips, her legs helped lock it in as he sunk low enough to get his face close to her crotch. He licked the clitoris, the lace, it was wet and devoid of the usual flavor, replaced by the taste of chlorinated water.

“As sexy as the swimming team might be, there is that,” Nate said.

“Here,” Gia said to Harry.

Harry tasted the surge in salinity within the lace, his tongue moved in, felt the jet from her urethrae, it was familiar and his dick stiffened beneath as the golden spray started to bathe his face. Nate laughed. Harry, though, didn’t change his focus, let her continue as his tongue explored.

“That’s right, he likes it,” Nate said.

“I don’t have to even … look,” Gia said, before she let out her fits of giggles.

Her golden shower came to an end, and Harry lifted her up, to rest on the pool deck. Harry hopped up, kept his knees on the ledge, pushed his hard cock into her. Harry moved her slightly as he leaned forward, cock still in her, and rested his chest onto hers, the hard nipples pushed into his skin. Harry craned his neck, kissed, while his hands worked her breasts.

“Oh, that’s who taken him,” said the red haired Lisa as she entered, stopped to watch Harry drill.

“He comes in nearly every day like that,” Tracey said to Lisa, “Stiffy, yes, not always the sex.”

Harry, though, kept drilling, unconcerned that his hard cock was now the center of attention. Harry simply kept flexing his hips, let the shaft go as it did, a bit slow until he heard the deep breathing, when he sped it up until he felt the pent up urge. Harry held it in, felt the release, and pulled out, his dick was dripping, the slit still oozed out his off–white semen.

“No doubts there,” Lisa said.

“They’re an odd couple,” Tracey said.

Lisa went over to another lane, crouched in front of one of the other male swimmers.

“Ready?” Harry asked Gia. They stood.

“Bit more passionate,” Gia said.

Harry went over, sat on a bleacher, his loosening balls hung over the edge as she sat down next to him.

“You needed—I thought you—” Gia started.

“I love you and you love me, we’ve committed to an open relationship,” Harry said, “Still, I’m not perfect at this, I still need—we need the sex. Lets not forget each other while being open, alright?”

“I guess,” Gia said, “I thought you—”

“I don’t mind sharing you with Ron, Richard, Nate, and heck, even Ash,” Harry said, “Still, I need you. A bit more, alright?”

“It’s been fun,” Gia said.

“Me, not as many, so I’m left to play with myself,” Harry said, “A bit more.” Harry leaned over, kissed her.

“Sorry,” Gia said, “I should’ve considered—”

“Lets just do a bit better?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Gia said, “Though you could stand to get a bit more—” she worked his ribs “—nothing here.”

Harry and Gia stood, left the swimming pool.

“Okay, for once, I might have an appetite,” Harry said.

“We’re taking it,” Gia said, leading him along High Street.

They entered the Persian Mirage .

“Hold a plate,” Gia said as they approached the buffet.

Harry held the warm plate in his hands, she dumped on rice, tandoori chicken, and buttered chicken. Some naan, and they went to sit at a table, same side next to each other.

“Do I need to—?” Gia asked as she grabbed a fork.

“Fun?” Harry asked.

Gia put a bit of the cut buttered chicken onto a fork, fed it into Harry’s open mouth. Harry took the fork, added rice to the chicken, held it to Gia’s mouth, and she ate. They snickered.

“Bit too much for the usual method,” Gia said.

“Yeah,” Harry said as he glanced down her bare chest, “Maybe a mess _is_ a good idea.”

Gia laughed.

“Thanks for not fussing on this,” Gia said as she loaded up a spoon with rice, fed it to Harry.

“Believe it or not, I can get hungry,” Harry said.

“Not often?” Gia asked.

“No,” Harry said.

“I don’t need a degree in magic to know it’s not good for you in the long run,” Gia said, “So, I welcome this. Though—this is finger food.”

She grabbed the tandoori chicken, ate, as her fingers tips were reddened from it. Harry leaned over, licked her fingers. She giggled. Harry ate some of the tandoori chicken, put his fingers onto her bare breasts, studied the marks left behind.

“Tomorrow—we’ll shag in The Three Broomsticks ,“ Harry said.

“Um…is that wise?” Gia said, “Last time didn’t exactly go well.”

“If I don’t go, then I’d be cowering in fear,” Harry said, “No, besides, Honeydukes has good candy.”

“Alright,” Gia said.

Harry was less certain, of course, however, he never finished showing her the village, and it’d be worth it despite having to get dressed. Gia tore off a strip of the naan, brought it to his mouth.


	49. Hogsmeade Denied

Round, both lumps of roundness, inside a scrotum, laid just in front of Ash’s eyes as he woke up Saturday morning, his head on the thigh. Ash noted the mole on the back of the skin, knew it to be Gale’s scrotum as the penis flopped down into view. Ash watched the foreskin retract, the ridge of the glans peeked out, before it began to stiffen out of Ash’s view. Ash stayed still, studied the familiar skin, as he didn’t really want to wake up, but he was no longer tired. Ash could feel Buck’s weight, whose head was positioned to get a similar view of Ash’s crotch.

“Morning,” Buck whispered.

Ash felt the fingers, caress his todger, check his foreskin, tap the testicles, before teasing the flesh in earnest. Ash figured Buck was studying Ash’s stiffening dick, and Ash didn’t mind, instead, his dick eagerly greeted Buck, felt Buck’s breath on it.

“How soon until he shows up?” Gale asked.

“He said he was going to Hogsmeade,” Ash said, “So, this is where he’d come.”

They were, after all, on Harry’s bed. Gale turned slightly, revealed Buck’s genitals slightly beyond Gale.

“Where is it he goes?” Gale asked.

“I won’t spill,” Ash said, “Ask him.”

Ash watched Gale’s fingers adjust the balls in front of him. Ash moved his head to follow the fingers, wrap themselves around the shaft, and began to move as Gale proceeded to wank. Ash watched the fingers move, along the shaft, watched as it began to pump, watched the surges come out of Gale’s tip, and watched the sticky beads of white slime ooze down the shaft.

“Good morning to you too,” Ash said.

“Suppose he’ll—him falling on us isn’t fun,” Buck said.

Buck moved, got off the bed.

“Oh, you guys again?” asked Ron, from his bed.

Ash moved, stood, saw the starkers Ron with his red pubic hair, Hermione climbed off the bed.

“Harry said it’s okay,” Ash said, “Keeps his bed slept in.”

Ash walked into the bathroom, stood next to Buck peeing from a soft penis, and aimed. Ash felt the stiffness go away, the soft penis easier to aim. Buck remained after he was finished, watched Ash pee into the toilet.

“That’s beautiful,” Buck said.

Ash blushed.

“Mean it,” Buck said.

“Likely a side effect of our Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment habit,” Ash said.

“I don’t regret it,” Buck said, “Maybe it opened my eyes to see just how beautiful my friends are, our lives, your life, is beautiful.”

Buck hugged Ash.

“Save some for me,” Gale said as he entered.

Buck grabbed Gale from behind, held Gale’s soft penis as it began to pee. Gale blushed.

“Go with it,” Ash said.

“You didn’t by chance get a love potion?” Ron asked as he stepped into the shower.

“Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment has it,” Ash stated.

“That stuff was supposed to be medicinal use only,” Hermione said.

“It was fun,” Ash said, “We learned our lesson.”

“Good,” Hermione said, “All of you abused it, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” Buck said.

“We could tell,” Hermione said.

Ash, Buck, and Gale went back into the dormitory.

“I’m not ashamed,” Buck said as he sat at the table. Cauldron cakes appeared, and he began to eat.

“Though, maybe it’s better to let it slip,” Gale said, “You know, that we had an encounter with a love potion, explain our behavior.”

“You’re embarrassed?” Buck asked.

“Well, I don’t know how well it’d be tolerated,” Ash said, “I’m kinda flirting with anybody who plays with my balls.”

“So, I’ve noticed,” Harry said as he came off the bed, Gia with him. Both of them were dressed, including zippered jumpers.

“Who’s that?” Gale asked.

“Harry’s girlfriend,” Ash said, “Taking her to Hogsmeade, wish I could go, sounds fun.”

“You’re adorable,” Gia said to Gale. Gale blushed.

“Gia?” Harry asked.

“Hi,” Gale said as Gia leaned over, looked straight into his blue eyes.

“Cute,” Gia said, before glancing down into his crotch, “Totally good when he comes of age.”

“They’ve started going to class starkers,” Harry said.

“I must put in for a transfer,” Gia said.

“Ron!” Harry said, loudly, “Ready?”

“They’re having sex,” Gale said.

“We’ll wait,” Harry said.

“I thought I had another recruit,” Ash said, “Tina—for a short while…but, alas, no, not willing to show her support for you.”

“That’s what they’re doing starkers?” Gia asked Harry.

“Yep,” Ash said, “I know how you are Harry, starkers when you can get away with it.”

“Not at Hogwarts,” Harry said.

“The others…think we’re doing it for another reason,” Ash said, “Still, when you see our skin, remember, we’re in your camp.”

“Um…thank you,” Harry said.

“It’d be nice to try with Tina, again,” Ash said, “Suppose she’s up by now?”

“Lets find out,” Harry said.

Harry went to his trunk, pulled out the parchment.

“Still have stuff here?” Gia asked.

“A few things,” Harry said, “Like I need a map of Hogwarts at home.”

Harry took his wand, muttered, and the parchment revealed itself, set it onto the table. Ash studied it, a map of Hogwarts, and he saw himself labeled in the dormitory.

“Wow,” Ash said, “What are these?” He pointed to the passageways leading away from the castle.

“This one’s blocked,” Harry said, “However, this other one—” he pointed “—from the one eyed witch on the third floor leads into Honeyduke’s cellar. Oh, I shouldn’t have told you that.”

“Of course not,” Ash said, memorizing the password written on the parchment.

“Ready?” Harry asked as Ron came into the dormitory, Hermione behind him.

“Almost,” Ron said as he went to his trunk and pulled out some clothes.

“You don’t even bother to match?” Hermione asked.

“Why would I care?” Ron asked as he pulled on the red and white and yellow plaid shirt. He stepped into his white briefs, pulled on his blue trousers.

“There’s more to it,” Hermione said.

“When it comes to clothes,” Gia said, “Boys are color blind.”

“True,” Hermione said.

“Skin’s better?” Buck asked.

“Yes!” Harry exclaimed.

Ash took some sausage, ate it. Hermione dressed last; Ron pulled her shirt over her, covered her small breasts, before he put her knickers down and she stepped into them.

“I agree with them, skin’s the best,” Ron said.

“Not at Hogwarts,” Hermione said.

Hermione grabbed The Daily Prophet and joined Ron, Harry, and Gia in leaving the dormitory.

“So we’re well known?” Gale asked.

“What’d you expect when we’re going around starkers?” Buck said as he poured more maple syrup onto his cauldron cakes, “Well, we’re first years and have made our impression.”

“I’d like to see Hogsmeade,” Ash said.

“Sure,” Buck said.

“Now?” Gale asked.

Ash stood.

“Coming?” Ash asked.

“I…no,” Gale said, “Bit too far out of bounds.”

“Buck?” Ash asked.

“Here,” Buck said, pushing the cauldron cakes over to Gale, “Enjoy.”

Buck and Ash left the dormitory, went down the stairs, to their own. Ash grabbed his bookbag.

“Tie?” Buck asked.

“Lets _advertise_ being first years,” Ash said.

“Right,” Buck said.

Ash glanced at Buck’s chest, Tina’s tattoo had already faded away. Ash emptied most of his bookbag, leaving his wand, his wallet, and slung it over his shoulder. Buck tossed his wand and wallet into Buck’s bag, and they left the dormitory. Ash glanced at a couple of first year girls, both of whom blushed as they studied Ash’s and Buck’s freely hanging soft dicks. Ash and Buck left the common room.

“That never gets old,” Buck said.

“Those girls have seen your penis,” Ash said, “Cool, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Buck said.

They came to the one eyed witch on the third floor. They glanced both ways, and Ash spoke the password to the statue; it moved. Ash and Buck went into the narrow passageway, and the statue closed behind them.

“It’s funny,” Ash said, “Go starkers for any length of time, and you learn to ignore it, to like it, even with girls watching our butts.”

Buck leaned forward and bent over, his bare anus exposed toward Ash, the testicles hung beneath.

“Tempting,” Ash said, “Beautiful arse.” Ash stepped forward, touched the tip of his penis to the crack, and it stiffened.

“You would,” Buck said, moving and standing up.

“Yep,” Ash said as he pulled on Buck’s hips, let his hard cock jab and slide inward, “An offer, right?”

“Suppose so,” Buck said, leaning forward a bit.

“Nice,” Ash said, patting the butt cheeks. He pushed and pulled, until he felt the urge, and pulled all the way out. Ash rested his tip against the back of Buck’s testicles as the release started. Ash’s off–white sticky seed spread across Buck’s scrotum.

“You’re welcome,” Buck said.

“Thank you,” Ash said.

Buck limped for a moment, they both moved along the stairs toward Hogsmeade.

* * *

“Uh–oh,” Hermione muttered as she read The Daily Prophet as her, Ron, Gia, and Harry left the castle, headed toward Hogsmeade.

“What?” Ron asked.

“Never mind,” Hermione said.

“Harry,” Ron said, grabbing the paper, “It’s about you.”

“When isn’t it?” Harry replied.

Gia grabbed the paper, read it aloud.

Saturday, 26 October, 1996

The Daily Prophet

Potter in Mischief Again

by Rita Skeeter

Once again, yours truly regrets to inform you that Harry Potter, the Boy Who Should Have Died, is still wildly out of control. Last time, I informed you about the mischief Potter is causing, how a dozen people were murdered last month at his hands, how his out of control sex drive is dirtying the halls of Hogwarts, how Potter poisons the school meals, how Potter recklessly endangers himself and blames others, and how Potter is beating his fellow schoolmates. Evidence is surfacing that Potter’s misbehavior is worsening.

Two years ago during the four champion debacle of the Triwizard Tournament, Potter’s Potion teacher, Severus Snape was heard saying, “Don’t go blaming Dumbledore for Potter’s determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here.” Potter apparently continued with his rule breaking Thursday by adding an explosive surprise to the stairs of Hogwarts, injuring many students; all the while taking full advantage of the extensive liberty offered to this infamous and very spoiled wizard at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

One may ask “Where is his supervision?” They need to only look so far as Hogwarts’ Headmaster Albus Dumbledore who personally intercedes on each misbehavior and pressures the complainers to rescind their charges. Potter, whose bed at Hogwarts rots unoccupied at night, is sleeping around and the smart reader would seriously doubt that Potter even knows the names of those he forces his manhood onto.

Whether or not the rumors about Potter being a more powerful successor to the late You Know Who are true, certain things are absolutely apparent. Potter is a disgrace. Potter is a disgrace to Hogwarts. Potter is a disgrace to the Wizarding community. Potter should be expelled and banished immediately, and his wand destroyed. We should not in good conscious, permit others to commit foul acts against us, nor permit Potter to continue unchecked. Any decent and self–respecting person should write to Dumbledore and Fallerschain to demand immediate action.

“Arsehole of a barmy burk!” Harry exclaimed, “Can’t see the truth—”

“This is juicier,” Ron said.

Harry glared at Ron. They walked past Mr. Filch at the gate, and kept on going.

“This is going to be fun,” Hermione muttered.

Harry loosened his jacket as they approached The Three Broomsticks .

“They’re loose?” whispered a hag to a witch, both were departing The Three Broomsticks .

Harry rolled his eyes as he opened the door and entered, his friends behind him as he collided into a tall and big fellow, a fellow that made Dudley seem short and reasonable. Harry stumbled back, his eyes moved up to the fellow looking back with crossed arms.

“You’re new,” Harry remarked to this new bouncer.

“Out,” the bouncer said, “You’re trespassing, so you either leave or I toss you out.”

“Fine,” Harry snapped.

Harry stepped backward, but was too slow for the bouncer who gave Harry a firm shove. Harry lost his balance and tumbled backward, Ron stumbled, Hermione tripped, and Gia pushed herself against the wall. Harry landed on his arse with his hands hitting the gravel.

“You mad bastard—” Ron drew his wand, his eyes focused upon the bouncer.

“Not the place—” Harry started back up.

“All banned for life.” The bouncer pointed at the four of them before closing the door, which left them out in the cold air.

“How rude of them—” Hermione said.

“Their choice, I suppose,” Harry said.

Grin wiped from his face, Harry plucked the small bits of gravel out of his palms as he walked toward Honeydukes. In several moments, they entered Honeydukes to be greeted by the glare of the lady behind the counter. She pointed toward the door.

“Out!” the lady ordered, “Can’t you read?! Leave!” She gripped the hilt of her wand.

Harry backed out and read the sign posted in the window.

Harry James Potter

and

Ronald Bilius Weasley

are not welcome!!!

Harry sighed, turned. As he rotated, his eyes focused up and down the road, where Zonko’s Joke Shop had a sign on display, a hint of it was visible in Gladrags window. Harry kept turning, and it became clear that every shop had this sign, from The Three Broomsticks to the Post Office and beyond.

“What’d you expect?” Hermione asked.

“A bit of reason,” Harry said.

They walked to the station.

“We’re not taking the train, are we?” Hermione asked.

“Seemed a bit closer than Hogwarts,” Harry said.

They ducked into the empty men’s lavatory, where Harry took out his Portkey. He activated it, and they all touched it.

“It was wishful thinking,” Hermione said as they landed in Gia’s bedroom, “After twelve were cut down—”

“We didn’t!” Harry protested as he stripped his clothes off in the blink of an eye.

“They are not convinced,” Hermione said, watching Ron take his shirt off to expose the chest with some muscles to it.

“We still have the day,” Gia said while taking her shoes off.

“London instead?” Hermione asked, stepping out of her trousers.

Harry shrugged.

“I’d like to go,” Gia said.

“Alright,” Harry said.

“Get dressed?” Hermione asked.

“Why?” Harry asked, letting his dick stiffen.

“Manners…forget it,” Hermione said.

Harry used a leg wallet to strap his to his ankle, handed them over to Ron, Hermione, and Gia. They went out the door, down the steps, and left 26 Oak Street.

“Hogsmeade’s overrated,” Ron said, “Diagon Alley’s much better.”

They headed for the station with Harry’s hard erection swaying and Ron’s soft todger swinging.

* * *

Together, Buck and Ash moved the stone above their heads, climbed out of the passageway into the cellar. Up the stairs, and out the door, their eyes went wide as the array of candy was dangling at eye level, in the thick crowd of Hogwarts students. A wide assortment of candy, from licorice, to chocolate, to taffies, to chocolate frogs, and others that Ash didn’t recognize.

“Oh,” said a fourth year boy, his hand retracted after accidentally bumping into Ash’s penis.

In the split second, Ash understood the issue of being starkers in a tight crowd, because without trousers, without protection, collisions were inevitable, ones that neither meant. Ash realized he’d just have to get used to it, or get dressed, and he’d rather stay starkers.

“Interested?” Buck asked, holding up a chocolate frog.

“Sure,” Ash said.

Buck grabbed a basket, started to add to it. Together, they added in licorice, hard candy, taffies, toffees, chocolate bars, some Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans , and some fudge. Ash understood the advantage of being starkers, it was tough to lose sight of Buck, as everybody else was dressed, so their light skin stood out.

“Split the tab?” Buck asked..

“Yeah,” Ash said.

They brought the basket to the counter.

“Are you third years?” the lady asked.

“Yes,” Buck replied.

With both wallets, Buck took a Galleon each, paid.

“Not all in one sitting,” the lady said as Buck shoveled the goods into Ash’s bookbag.

Ash and Buck left, went down, and were about to enter Zonko’s Joke Shop , when they halted. Buck gripped his dick, pissed next to the road, when the hands went onto their shoulders.

“You’re not third years,” said Finnigan.

Ash and Buck turned around, faced the sixth years.

“Relax,” Finnigan said, “I wish I had done the same my first year, but I can use you, and, get you out of trouble.”

Ash and Buck followed Finnigan to The Three Broomsticks , entered.

“They are with me,” Finnigan said.

“Are they of age?” the bouncer asked.

“Yes,” Finnigan replied, “It was really odd, clothes apparently stunted their growth, they’re hoping to make up for lost time.”

Neville Longbottom passed in front of them. Finnigan escorted Ash and Buck into the pub, went up the stairs, followed Longbottom. They entered the room on the first floor, lounge chairs with some end tables all around, filled with Hogwarts students and strangers alike. However, a group of chairs sat in front of the fireplace.

“Good,” Finnigan said, as he went to the chairs, grabbed a drink as he sat. He motioned to Ash.

Ash moved as Finnigan directed, in front of the ring of chairs, his buttocks soaked in the heat of the stepped up onto the platform, felt the heat of the fire warm his buttocks. Buck moved to stand next to Ash.

“Meant you can sit if you wish,” Finnigan said.

Finnigan aimed his wand, an oversized bean bag chair moved from the corner to next to the fireplace. Buck sat first, Ash next to him. Ash felt the heat of Buck to his left, the heat of the fire to the right.

“What’s the big deal?” Macmillan asked as he sat down.

Justin Finch–Fletchley brought over a small tray of pints, handed them around. He handed butterbeers to Buck and Ash. Others, including Dean Thomas, joined the small group.

“These first years best represent the problem we’ve got,” Finnigan said, “Take that one—” he pointed to Ash “—so scared of Potter that he’d rather go starkers to make another rape easy to bear, yet, he’s been so brainwashed, that he’ll cling to that sliver of hope that Potter’s not as gone bad, so he’ll sleep in Potter’s bed, hoping for things to change.

“Don’t get me wrong. It takes guts, real guts for a _first_ year to go around, starkers, showing his todger off—we all know his puberty’s happening, we’ve seen it, and we’d all be surprised if he hasn’t shagged every girl by the end of the year. I’ve got hope too, that Harry’s not truly lost to us, because he was fun to be around, I thought I really liked him, because I was just as blind as Ginny Weasley’s hopeful in him.” He drank at the pint in his hands. “Except, my eyes have been opened, I now see the ugly truths, not the fairy tale—wishful thinking. Harry did take out the Dark Lord many years ago, but that’s where the fantasy ended. All the excuses, all those lies, it paints Potter for who he really is, a spoiled brat. If I could do it over again, that first year, I’d have pushed Potter into forming better friendships, even Malfoy would’ve been better than what happened, those who’d write him a pass with each insult.”

They all sipped their drinks.

“What’d you expect us to do about it?” Thomas said, “Face it, we’re stuck with Potter.”

“No, we’re not,” Finnigan said, “We give this a try.” He held up The Daily Prophet .

“You’re deluded that anything would happen,” Macmillan said.

“Do we give up, become scared first years?” Finnigan asked, pointed at Ash and Buck, “So scared that we’re singing soprano and starkers at the Halloween feast?”

“No,” Thomas said.

Macmillan shook his head.

“Neville?” Finnigan asked.

“I’m not positive its the right thing—” Longbottom started.

Smack!

Finnigan’s fist recoiled from Longbottom’s shoulder.

“My Gran would kill me,” Longbottom said, “She’s still admires Harry.”

“Don’t tell her,” Finnigan said.

“She’d find out,” Longbottom said.

“What are we going to do?” Justin Finch–Fletchley asked.

“Simple,” Finnigan said, “We ask the teachers to kick Potter out, expel him.”

“They’re not going to go for it,” Macmillan said.

“We have to start somewhere,” Finnigan said as he grabbed a sheet of parchment, began to write, “And yes, it’ll suck.”

Ash shook his head as he stood up.

“This is to protect you!” Finnigan said.

“He’s sensitive,” Buck said as Ash made for the door. Buck followed.

Down the steps, out the front door, Buck and Ash came back to the high street of Hogsmeade. They stopped in front of Gladrags Wizardwear , glanced at the displays.

“Don’t need _that_ ,” Ash said.

Buck snickered. Ash turned around, eyes went over the blond haired boy and focused on the belly button.

“They’re asking he be banished, right?” Buck asked.

“Their whole argument hinges on one thing,” Ash said, “Was He–Who–Must–Not–Be–Named really killed fifteen years ago, or not? If not, if this whole thing with Harry supposedly acting out is wrong, then we are screwed, very much screwed, if they succeed.”

“You’re serious?” Buck asked.

“As serious as my dick’s hanging out,” Ash said.

Buck glanced down at it.

“Serious,” Buck said.

Ash and Buck crossed the road, entered Zonko’s Joke Shop , ignored the sign warning off Harry and Ron.

“Cool,” Ash muttered, seeing the Dungbombs.

Quickly, Buck loaded up a basket, brought it to the man behind the counter.

“Are you planning on taking these into Hogwarts?” the man asked.

“No,” Buck said.

“Good, these are on the banned list,” the man said, “Wouldn’t want to get into trouble, would we?”

“No,” Buck replied.

Buck paid, deposited the merchandise into Ash’s bookbag, and they left the store.

* * *

“Why do I care about lingerie?” Ron asked Harry as they followed Hermione and Gia out of the Fancy Dress shop on Charing Cross Road , “They don’t need to even consider wearing _anything_!”

“Say that a bit louder in case they didn’t hear you,” Harry said.

“Don’t even think about it!” Ron said to Hermione, “Clothes make you look horrible.”

“Ron!” Hermione snapped.

“Hey, hey,” Harry said, “Lets try the bookstore.”

Harry came first to the third hand used bookstore, to the faded sign above that illuminated, The Leaky Cauldron . However, his eyes came fast to the sign posted prominently on the door.

Harry James Potter

and

Ronald Bilius Weasley

are not welcome!!!

“Fancy that,” Ron said, “I’m infamous.”

“It’s not how you want to be known,” Harry said as they continued walking, “Is there a back entrance to Diagon Alley?”

“Why would there be?” Ron asked.

“Dunno,” Harry said, “Thought there might be—suppose we could get some brooms—”

“They clearly didn’t want you entering,” Gia said.

“It didn’t preclude us,” Hermione said to Gia.

“Do you really want to test how well our _girlfriends_ would go over?” Harry asked.

“I’ve gone before,” Hermione said, “Some parchment would be useful.”

“Tomorrow?” Ron said.

“I—my parents,” Hermione said.

They kept walking.

“Where to?” Gia asked.

“That bookstore’s too close,” Harry said.

“Bad idea too,” Ron said, “There’s others.”

“Like we brought pockets,” Hermione said.

“Ron’s right, you’re better like this,” Harry said, his eyes quickly swept her body before returning to her face.

“You’re…you’re _judging_ , again!” Hermione said, stopping in the fair weather.

“You give us boners,” Ron said, “Why argue?”

“They’re trying to compliment you,” Gia said, “Accept it.”

They stood there, in the middle of the sidewalk, as the other pedestrians walked around the naked teenagers. Only Hermione and Gia watched as Harry gripped his penis, began to piss without a concern. Hermione watched the foreskin slip, Harry’s shaft stiffen, his balls hung loose.

“See?” Gia said to Hermione.

Harry avoided his fresh puddle, and started walking again. Hermione, Gia, and Ron followed.

* * *

Together, Ash and Buck restored the stone in the cellar of Honeyduke’s Sweetshop ; they worked their way back up the passage.

“Gale missed out,” Buck said.

“Yep,” Ash said.

“Thank you,” Buck said.

Buck pinned Ash to the wall, the eyes surveyed Ash. A bit of fudge went into Ash’s mouth just before Buck planted his lips over Ash’s. Buck’s tongue moved inward, pushed the chocolaty fudge flavor around the mouth. Buck’s hard glans touched Ash’s, the hard dicks touched, teased, as Buck kept up the kiss. Buck’s hands worked Ash’s shoulders, as Buck’s hard erection pressed against Ash’s testicles and crept upward.

“Hmm…” Ash mumbled as best as he could given the mouth was full

Ash felt the surge, the tip of Buck’s dick pumped out, the hot semen flowed between the crack of Ash’s boyish V, moved down to drip from his loose testicles. They finished the fudge, Buck pushed back.

“Feel better too,” Buck said.

Neither bothered to wipe, so the off–white clung to them, dangled from Buck’s softening foreskin as they continued up the passageway.

“A drawback, or an advantage to going starkers,” Buck said, “No hesitation.”

“Nope,” Ash said.

Ash appreciated what Buck had done, made Ash feel needed, and Ash felt better for it. They came to the witch, it opened, and they peeked out. They entered the third floor corridor, and headed downward.

Pfffpt!

They walked past the kitchens, came to the barrels.

“Lemme see,” Buck said as his hands worked the barrels, in the notes. The barrels moved. “Not hard at all.”

Buck and Ash entered the yellow and black Hufflepuff Common room. Gale was starkers at a table.

“You did, didn’t you?” Gale asked.

“Wanna see?” Buck asked.

Gale followed Buck and Ash, down the boys’ corridor, into the first year boys’ dormitory. Ash set the bag onto the bed, pulled out some exploding snap.

Pop!

“Or,” Buck said, handing over a bean.

“Ew!” Gale said as he ate, tastes like—never mind.

“Here,” Ash held up a stick of licorice, and Gale ate that.

Pfffpt!

“Just a—” Ash started as he felt the pressure building in his arse.

“Your butt,” Gale said to Ash.

“What about it?” Ash asked.

Gale’s hands felt Ash’s rump, the hard dick touched between the cheeks.

Pfffpt!

“Can I?” Gale asked.

“Fast, make it fast,” Ash said.

Ash felt the shaft push inward, Gale wrapped his arms around Ash’s stomach. Gale kissed the center of Ash’s back as the drilling began. Ash’s butt had become quite used to being used, by Gale or Ash or even the real Harry, still, part of Ash didn’t like it, but he accepted it, the price for using _their_ butts, when needed. Gale pulled out.

Pfffpt! Pfffpt!

“Ew,” Gale muttered as Ash felt the pressure release in his arse.

Ash defecated, the chunks fell to the floor.

“He wanted to poop but you insisted,” Buck said, dismissively.

“Sorry, thought it was something else,” Gale said.

Ash felt no urge to stop, so he started to laugh as Buck and Gale simply watched his arse keep dropping.

“That’s not funny,” Gale said.

“Yes it is,” Buck said.

“Well, how do you get rid of messes around here,” Ash said to Gale.

“Oh—oh!” Gale said.

Gale grabbed Ash’s wand, aimed. Ash felt the strong curse, fell straight onto his face, his butt more sore than usual.

“Sorry,” Gale said, “My wand’s at the table.”

Ash rubbed his nose, stood up.

“It’s clean though,” Buck said.

“Hey! Hey!” came the shout from outside the room.

Ash, Buck, and Gale followed the shouting back to the Hufflepuff common room. Ernie Macmillan and Seamus Finnigan stood on a table, they crouched their heads to avoid the low ceiling.

“Attention!” Finnigan said to the crowd of Hufflepuffs gathered around, “We all have a problem in this castle, one that goes by the name of Harry Potter. Should I have to point out those afraid to even dress?” Finnigan pointed straight at Ash, Buck, and Gale. “Vulnerable first years, we’re taking action for them, for us. To get started, please, sign this letter, everybody, sign it.”

“We’re asking the teachers?” asked Susan Bones.

“Give em a chance,” Finnigan said, “We have a _right_ of protection from the likes of Potter, don’t you agree?”

Susan Bones nodded, took the quill and put it to the parchment. Ash found himself trapped into crowd, pulled him closer and closer to the parchment, one that Ash didn’t wish to sign. As everybody had their eyes on the letter, the signing of it, Ash dropped to the ground, rolled beneath a table. Ash made a quick beeline for the wall, slipped behind a sofa. Buck and Gale were right behind him.

“You couldn’t—?” Gale whispered.

“Shh!” Ash said.

“Where’d they go?” Finnigan stammered.

“Dunno,” Macmillan said.

“We’ll get em later,” Finnigan said, “Everybody’ll sign, they’ll definitely want to sign.”

* * *

A crack, a buttock crack, had caught Gia’s eyes, Harry’s crack with his buttocks slipping as he led their run through Waterloo station.

“…boarding on platform..” said the announcement.

Gia tuned it out, she knew what she wanted to know, they didn’t wish to wait an hour to the next train, as the four of them ran starkers through the crowd, onto the platform. Doors were lighting up to close, they jumped the gap, and boarded the front train; it began to move. It was crowded and full, as they slipped into the front carriage. Ahead, the aisle to the other end was already blocked with people standing. They came to the four seats, two facing each other, one side had two people, the other side, empty.

“Take it,” Harry pointed.

Gia scooted into the window side, sat. She felt the velvet on her buttocks, but glanced at the young two people facing her.

“Sorry, mind?” Gia asked.

“Morris won’t,” said the young light brown haired girl with light brown eyes, about ten, directly across from Gia.

Gia glanced at the boy, about similar stature, next to her, twelve, with his blue eyes and light brown hair shaking his head. His eyes surveyed Gia, lifted his backpack from the floor onto his backpack. Hermione sat next to Gia. Harry moved between, leaned back against the window as they passed through Clapham Junction .

“Is he mooning—?” the girl asked.

“Yep,” Gia said, as Ron sat on the floor.

“Peggy!” Morris snapped as the girl’s head turned, studied Harry’s black pubic hair.

“Nice,” Peggy said.

“Ugh!” Morris said, “You’re all starkers!”

“I think we’ve got that figured out,” Ron said.

“That’s not like yours,” Peggy said, her eyes focused on Harry’s soft cock. She reached out, touched the foreskin.

“Lets not discuss—” Morris started, “Stop!”

“I’m cool,” Harry said.

“She’s _my_ sister,” Morris snapped.

“I’m starkers and my todger’s attached,” Harry said.

“Don’t ask,” Hermione said, “Long story.”

“Relax, it’s fine,” Peggy said, “Just going to Dad’s. Morris hates him.”

“He’s a lousy son of a bitch,” Morris said, “But he’s rich.”

“What’s with the hair?” Peggy said, “That’s…natural, right?”

“Yep,” Harry said.

Gia spotted Harry’s eyes, he knew Peggy was staring right at Harry’s dark jet black pubic hair. It billowed outward, and Gia saw Peggy’s smile.

“How much do you know about boys?” Gia asked.

“A little bit,” Peggy said, “Morris doesn’t have that much hair.”

“Hey!” Morris grumbled.

“It’s natural,” Gia said, “Though, been thinking that he ought to trim it, just a bit.”

“Might work,” Peggy said.

Gia glanced at Harry’s face, saw the grin, the watching of them. She knew Harry enjoyed this, even if he’s playing cool.

“So, Morris has started puberty?” Gia asked.

“I think so,” Peggy said, “But I’m not one to seek out my brother’s todger.”

“Ta,” Morris grumbled.

“Wicked,” Peggy said, her eyes focused on Harry’s stiffening todger. Gia watched it move fast, to become the rock hard erection she was used to, the foreskin retracted to let the glans out. “Cool.”

“It’s a todger,” Morris said, “It’s what todgers do.”

“Diagrams in school suck,” Peggy said, “It’s gorgeous.”

Harry blushed.

“Keep complimenting it,” Ron said.

“I’m serious,” Peggy said, “It’s a stupid drawing—this is much better. Mind?” Her fingers reached over.

“Sure,” Harry said.

Peggy felt the ridge beneath. “Oh, this is the urethrae—goes to—” she felt his slit.

“Careful!” Morris barked.

“He wouldn’t mind,” Hermione said.

“You’re obviously traveling together,” Morris said.

“Nah,” Ron said.

Peggy, though, felt the foreskin.

“That’s sensitive,” Gia said.

“And what they cut for circumcision?” Peggy asked.

“Yep,” Harry said, “I like it as it is.”

Peggy, though, felt the scrotum.

“Smooth skin,” Peggy said, before her fingers felt up the testicles within.

“Stop playing with him!” Morris snapped.

“It’s alright,” Harry said.

“And you’ll get off on her!” Morris said, “She’s _my_ sister.”

Peggy took her hands off Harry, sat back, simply smiled as Harry’s hard cock jutted outward between her and Gia.

“I’d like to see it,” Peggy said, “No touching mister!”

“It doesn’t go off on its own!” Ron said, “Something’s gotta give.”

Gia felt a hint of devilishness. “Demonstrate.”

“Ta,” Hermione said to Gia.

“I…” Ron started.

“Sure,” Harry said.

“You’re going to…?” Morris stammered as Ron moved closer, “That’s so…so…gay.”

“No hiding it from her—or me,” Gia said, “Um…tongue, only.”

“A challenge?” Ron asked.

“Yes,” Gia said.

Ron stuck out his tongue, took up the challenge, and started by licking the edge of the foreskin.

“Most sensitive?” Peggy asked.

“Tongue is the best way to manually stimulate it too,” Gia replied.

White teeth hung out of the mouth as the pink flesh worked. Ron licked, the glans, the slit, before it focused right beneath, on the fulcrum. Ron’s tongue arched upward, lifted as it licked the underside. Harry’s glans remained parked, poised, ready to enter the mouth, however, Ron didn’t draw it in.

“Don’t worry,” Hermione said, “We’re all friends.”

“Obviously,” Morris said.

Peggy and Gia, though, focused on the head of Harry’s hard cock, the pink contour, the slit that started to leak a bit of the clear pre–cum liquid. Harry’s hands held onto the trim, steadied himself, as the rows to either side were also giving glances. Gia, however, returned her focus to the pinkness tickling pink.

“Fascinating,” Peggy said.

“Obviously not their main interests,” Hermione said, “However, they taught themselves not to disgusted by it.”

“Couldn’t tell,” Morris said.

“Quiet—they need to concentrate,” Peggy snapped.

Gia realized this wasn’t the most stimulating to Harry, simply because it took longer than it should. However, neither Peggy nor herself minded the extra viewing time, as Harry’s hard cock loitered between them, ready and aimed at Ron’s mouth. Gia understood when she saw the clenching, the pumping, along the urethrae beneath, something she had felt, but typically hadn’t watched, like a fast bolt along the shaft. A fast jet of off white shot out of Harry’s tip, into Ron’s mouth. Pulse after pulse, Harry ejaculated, and the sticky liquid coated Ron’s tongue. Ron waited until Harry stopped, before he closed his mouth, swallowed.

“Cool,” Peggy said.

“Feel his bollocks,” Gia said.

Peggy reached, felt.

“Softer,” Peggy said.

“Stop!” Morris snapped.

Peggy pulled her hand back, watched as Harry’s todger soften nearly as fast as it had stiffened.

“That’s what happens when it’s inside us,” Gia said, “Only, we can get pregnant.”

“I…” Harry drifted off a bit, before he started to relax.

Gia pulled him down, to rest across her lap and Hermione’s. He curled up and began to sleep.

“That was a good one,” Gia said, “He gets tired from it.”

“You’re not supposed to make a public display from it,” Morris said.

“We got over it,” Gia said, “I mean—” she lifted Harry’s leg, showed the soft sack, the spent penis resting on his thigh, before setting it back down “—cute, handsome, a jewel.”

Hermione stroked Harry’s ear as he slept.

“You’re certainly casual about thing,” Morris said, “Very casual.”

“It’s more fun,” Ron said, “Even though it’s got the occasional downside.”

“I saw,” Morris said.

“Well, there are times these two aren’t available, or have a headache,” Ron said, “But still need it taken care of—we’ve accepted it.”

“Obviously,” Morris said.

“Fine with me,” Peggy said.

The train began to break.

“The next station is Guildford,” the announcement said.

“That’s us, to transfer,” Hermione said.

Ron stood.

“Your’s is gorgeous too,” Peggy said.

“Stop staring at todgers!” Morris said.

“Make me,” Peggy said.

Ron pulled Harry over his shoulder, fireman carried Harry to the door. Gia and Hermione followed. They left the train as soon as the doors opened.

“You just had to taunt,” Hermione said to Gia.

“She was interested,” Gia said, “Now she knows, and we get to see Ron’s butt.”

“There’s that,” Hermione said.

“What?” Ron asked.

Gia and Hermione snickered as they waited at the other platform, in the growing darkness of the evening. Harry started to move, got off Ron, and stumbled as he stood up.

“Huh?” Harry asked.

“Didn’t leave you behind,” Hermione said.

“Our good luck charm,” Gia siad.

“What they said,” Ron replied.

A train pulled up to the platform advertising Noigate, and they got on. Inside, it was sparsely occupied, and they found the pair of two seaters facing each other, sat. Gia sat next to the window, Harry across from her. Ron sat to her left, while Hermione sat on the other side. Harry stretched his arms, put his hands behind his head. Gia studied the wisps of hairs in Harry’s armpits.

“That was fun,” Harry said, “Better than Hogsmeade—well, it would’ve been nice to have shown you around a bit more.”

“As soon as you sort it out, it’ll be better,” Gia said, “I believe in you.”

Harry sighed.

“These things take time,” Hermione said, “If Voldemort’s plan is typical, it’ll be over in June.”

“June?” Gia stammered.

“Habit,” Ron said.

“Is it worth it?” Harry asked.

“What?” Hermione asked.

“Getting banned, with me?” Harry asked, “Is it worth it?”

“I just sucked on your cock!” Ron snapped.

“Because that girl—” Harry started.

“Because I asked,” Gia said, “Ron didn’t complain, he did it.”

“I did!” Ron said, “So, if you’re asking you’re worth it, pay attention!”

“Let us decide,” Gia said.

“Watch,” Ron said.

Gia turned, watched Ron’s fingers on his soft todger as it began to let out a jet of yellow. Ron peed, most of it flowed over the edge of the seat.

“Ron!” Hermione snapped.

“Interested?” Ron asked.

“She is,” Harry said.

The train slowed down, they made for the door, got off the station.

“I’m headed home,” Hermione said.

“I’ll come,” Ron said.

Ron and Hermione left by one end of the station. Harry and Gia left the other.

“London, starkers,” Gia said.

“Not like it was the first time,” Harry said.

Pfffpt!

Gia felt the pressure, squatted next to the road. She glanced down where the passing headlights illuminated the brown chunks dropping as she defecated.

“Nice,” Harry said.

“You would,” Gia said.

Harry extended his hand, pulled her up after her anus had settled.

“Animal,” Harry said.

“Excuse me?” Gia said.

“I _like_ being animals, together,” Harry said, as his arms quickly pulled her tight into a hug. He kissed. “I’ll wash your butt when we get home.”

Gia calmed herself down, knew Harry’s typical male crudeness for words, realized he liked being uninhibited, starkers, in public. He relaxed, and they headed for 26 Oak Street.

* * *

“Ash!” came the cry as Ash approached the library.

Ash turned around, Tina approached. Ash could see her lavender eyes dart beneath her blond hair, study the soft penis that hung freely. Wool of her jumper pushed against his bare chest as she hugged him; her hands slipped down to feel his buttocks while his todger stiffened to push against the fly of her trousers.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Tina said, her right hand felt his shoulder blades. “Going into the library?”

“Yeah,” Ash said.

Tina let loose, held his hand, and they went into the library.

“You’re not naked for Potter, are you?” Tina asked.

Ash shook his head.

“Why?” Tina asked.

Ash’s buttocks pressed against the wood as he sat cross–legged on the table. Tina crossed her legs as she sat next to him. She licked a finger, cleaned the dirt from his big toe.

“I do better starkers,” Ash said, “I can respond in class, I can fly, I can do magic, I can talk to you, if I’m starkers—clothed, and…you know how shy I was, still am.’

“Yes,” Tina replied.

“Don’t ask me why, I don’t know,” Ash said, “I just know it works, and it’s Harry who helped me discover it.”

“He raped—” Tina started.

“No he didn’t,” Ash said, “ _I_ am the one who decided to strip, and _I_ am the one who elects to stay starkers. I’ll give Harry credit, stay starkers for him, but truth is, I want to be starkers because I want to belong to Hogwarts.”

“Nobody will forget you,” Tina said.

“There’s that too,” Ash said, “I’m staying starkers.”

“Good,” Tina said, “It’s a good day to see you starkers.”

“Really?” Ash asked.

“Yeah,” Tina said, “This—” she grabbed his stiff erection “—it’s part of you, I understand that. But, now I know it.”

Ash smiled.

“But I don’t believe you on Harry,” Tina said, “I’m not going starkers for him.”

“Don’t,” Ash said, “Go starkers for yourself, or for me.”

“Not all the time,” Tina said.

“There’s a perfectly valid reason to go starkers,” Ash said, “Harry or not.”

“What?” Tina asked.

“Bang,” Ash replied.

“You want—” Tina started.

“Do you want to?” Ash asked.

Tina leaned over, kissed him on the cheek. Ash moved her onto her back, on the table. He straddled her.

“Harry,” Ash said, “Can you at least keep an open mind.”

“I’ll try,” Tina said.

Ash undid the buttons to her trousers, pulled the two halves open, and moved his arms beneath her shirt. Ash reached upward, rested on her, while his hands felt her nipples. He kissed her, while he felt her hands exploring his hard cock. She pulled, and he felt it enter the chasm of warmth, snug to both sides of his erection. Ash flexed, let it slid, as he drilled. Ash worked as he had been learning, waited until she breathed deeply before he accelerated. Tina panted as he drilled fast. He held it in as he felt the pressure build, release.

“That’s it?” Tina asked as he pulled out.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Ash said.

“I was expecting more,” Tina said as she removed her trousers, her knickers.

Ash glanced at the slot where his dick had just been, some of his semen was leaking out. She sat up, removed her shirt. They sat in the chairs. Ash glanced around at the stares, ignored them, as his face turned to hers.

“Just this one time—” Tina started.

“Be starkers _any_ time,” Ash said, “If it’d help, we’ll have sex a lot, give em the wrong impression.”

“You’re trying,” Tina said.

“Working?” Ash asked.

Tina groaned.

“I trust Harry with my _life_ , even starkers,” Ash said, “Those…those people pretending to be him, those I can’t trust, those I want hung, drawn, and quartered, even though that’d be too kind for what they deserve.”

“You’re persistent,” Tina said.

“I _know_ Harry is innocent in enough to question the rest,” Ash said.

“Curfew in ten minutes,” came the announcement.

“My place?” Ash asked.

Tina snorted, stood up, and she blushed. Ash glanced over her, with the breasts that were starting to come in, the smooth skin.

“Yeah, my place,” Ash said, “Follow my butt.”

Ash grabbed his bookbag, slung the strap over his shoulder, and began to walk. A couple steps behind, Tina followed, watched his fleshy cheeks flex with his gait. Ash led her up to Gryffindor Tower, up to the sixth year boys’ dormitory.

“Your room?” Tina asked.

“No, Potter’s,” said Finnigan.

“He—” Tina started, she hid behind Ash.

“Relax,” Finnigan said, “He’s been using Potter’s bed. Better use for it, and score for the shy one. Dunno why the teachers haven’t slapped this one down.”

“He’s not worried,” Tina said.

“Same arrogance as Potter,” Finnigan said, “Careful, don’t pick up his bad habits.”

Ash shook his head.

“For privacy, good choice,” Finnigan said, “Later.”

Finnigan left the dormitory.

“You’re about to sleep in Potter’s bed?” Tina asked.

“Harry doesn’t use it, so it’s semi–private,” Ash said.

“I don’t know,” Tina said.

“There you are,” Buck and Gale said as they entered, “Oh, you’ve got her.”

“I…” Tina started, her eyes on the starkers Buck and Gale.

“Relax!” Buck exclaimed as he approached, his legs flexed, the boyish V moved, and his todger swung as he approached Tina, “First meeting of the Hogwarts Nudist Association , right?”

“There isn’t one,” Tina said.

“There can be,” Buck said, as he grabbed her hand, kissed it.

“The teachers wouldn’t allow it,” Tina said.

“What reason do you want it to be?” Buck asked.

“Ash wants to go naked,” Gale said.

“Simple,” Tina said as her eyes surveyed the three stark naked boys, with their smooth skin, the testicles partially obscured by their foreskin wrapped todgers. “The truth?”

“Yes, the truth,” Ash said, “Starkers, I fit in at Hogwarts. Dressed, I don’t, so dressed, I may as well quit.”

“He improved with me going naked,” Buck said, “Either that or he just wants to see me naked.”

“You’re—you’re gay?” Tina asked Ash.

“I am what I am,” Ash said, “Were you stuffed into lockers at home? Were you blamed because something happened when you were angry, blaming you because their priceless vase is in a bunch of pieces? I didn’t fit in there, I didn’t fit in here, until Harry helped me figure it out. I owe Harry and I know Harry, and now I know myself enough to have a future at Hogwarts. I am a wizard, and I’m naked, deal with it. Can you be naked with me?”

“We are,” Gale said, raising his hand along with Buck’s.

“I’m starkers now,” Tina said.

“Good,” Ash said, “If we can trust, starkers, then we can be friends. Deal?”

“Not all the time,” Tina said.

“Doesn’t have to be,” Ash said.

Lights went out. Ash led Tina to Harry’s bed, they laid on it. Ash pulled the covers, and Tina snuggled against him. Ash felt the blossoming breasts against his chest, held her in his arm.

“You’re more confident,” Tina said.

“Thanks,” Ash said, “Heck, I showed off my orgasm, maybe it’s helping too?”

“You love doing that,” Tina said.

“Just started a couple weeks ago,” Ash said, “Yeah, it’s fun.”

Ash felt the fingers wrap themselves around his scrotum, held onto his balls beneath the covers.

“Where are they?” Tina said, “Potter and them?”

“Hiding,” Ash said, “I’m not allowed to say where. But it’d be the perfect alibis, because for half these incidents, Harry is with his girlfriend—and people expect him to break that to prank us? Totally nutters.”

Ash let the light touches, the teasing of his testicles, urge him into a slumber.

* * *

Ron carried the packs of beer as he and Hermione approached the familiar house. She carried the rotisserie chicken.

“Have to remember to thank Fred and George for that ID,” Ron said.

“Do you ever?” Hermione asked, knowing the answer before Ron spoke.

“No,” Ron said.

They entered Hermione’s house. She punched in the code to the keypad as Ron closed the door with his butt. Ron carried the cases into the kitchen, set them on the counter.

“Have you had a chance to think about Harry’s comments?” Hermione asked.

“Tell you what,” Ron said, before he went to the bathroom, “Why?”

Ron brought back a jar of Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment .

“Dunno,” Hermione said, “It’s—” she read the label “—it’s evidently being sold to muggles.”

She gave it back to Ron. Ron scooped a bit out, began to apply it to Hermione’s skin, rubbed it into her shoulders.

“I’m not sunburnt!” Hermione stammered.

“Forget Harry, for tonight,” Ron said, “Forget Hogwarts, forget Gia. Just you and me, alright?”

“I…I…” Hermione stuttered. She knew Hogwarts and Harry had been on her mind.

Ron worked fast, smeared the cool blue ointment across her skin, across his, did her nipples and clitoris last, before he finished his. Hermione felt her skin liven up, every burst of air pushed against her, and she felt it. Ron grabbed a chicken leg.

“Ow…ow!” Ron dropped it, used napkins to grab it.

“You just sensitized our skin,” Hermione said.

“I didn’t think,” Ron said.

Ron ate diligently, kept his teeth bared, the lips away from the meat as he ate. Hermione did the same, used napkins, until they finished the small pack of chicken. Ron opened a beer, handed it to her, and opened a second one.

“You sensitized me for a reason,” Hermione said.

“Yep,” Ron said, as he put his hands beneath her armpits, lifted her up to sit on the granite counter. Ron leaned over, blew against her clitoris. She felt the intensity and the urge to bear down, her orgasm started up fast, and she relaxed. Hermione leaned back, laid on the counter.

“Don’t mind if I take a leaf from Harry?” Ron asked.

“Of course not,” Hermione said.

A moment later, she felt the dripping, drizzling sensation. She glanced at Ron pouring the honey across her pelvis.

“Ron!” she said.

“Need more,” Ron said, as he leaned over. It lit up intensely, the orgasm pushed any concern over Harry out of her mind, the licking, Ron’s licking, filled her with enough pleasure that other thoughts were simply out of room. She had no concern as her muscles relaxed, let herself pee. Ron simply pulled back, watched the jet for a moment, before he returned to licking.

“Okay,” Hermione muttered.

“Been too focused lately,” Ron said, “Good to kick back and relax, even if it’s just for a moment.”

Ron flexed his hips, went upright, but still straddling on the counter with his hard erection above her. Hermione thought about it, and a bottle of mustard flew from refrigerator into her hand. She shook it, opened the cap, and inverted it over his hard cock. Mustard poured out as she squeezed. Ron took it, watched as her fingers squeezed.

“Ta,” Ron said.

Hermone sat up, leaned over, and she understood Ron’s point. They had been focused, worried about Harry, so it was good to rest for a moment, let his pubic hair brush against her cheek as she licked the mustard coated hard erection. A flick of white, and her eyes darted to see Ron begin to ejaculate as the semen started to fly out. She, however, focused on the hard cock before her. A milk carton, a quart container, flew out of the refrigerator, came into her hand.

“Sorry,” Ron said, “Um…try it.”

Ron turned around, laid his head into Hermione’s lap, opened his mouth directly beneath her right breast, and Hermione figured it out. She began to pour, slowly, and Ron watched. She felt silly, doing this, but that seemed to be Ron’s point, and they were having fun. Ron lapped it as it flowed off her nipple. Another orgasm, more bearing down, as she realized Ron was the guy that was super interested in her, everything about her turned him on at the moment. His hard cock was still spilling, hitting the tiled floor.

“Oh,” Ron said as chocolate syrup flew into her hands. His blue eyes read her brown. “Um…”

Hermione squeezed the bottle, the brown shot went across his stomach. A second salvo, it hit his todger. She reached, began to pour it in his red pubic hair, across his chest, on his freckled face, into the red hair on his head.

Ron laughed.

Hermione, though, brought it over her other nipple, and began to drizzle. Ron moved his head, opened his mouth, let the chocolate drain onto his tongue, and he lapped at it until the bottle drained empty. Ron sat up. Hermione reached over, hugged him. She felt the slippery chocolate on his chest, rubbed it, and licked her fingers. Ron chugged down the beer bottle, grabbed another. She moved around him, knelt in front, and he leaned back.

“Keep going,” Ron said.

“I intend too,” Hermione said as she got onto her hands and knees, him beneath her.

Pfffpt!

Hermione felt the urge, moved to lean backward, dangled her butt over the edge. Ron widened his legs, gave enough room, as she let her bowels clench. Ron watched between them, as she felt the movement, her droppings fell. Hermione finished, leaned forward, and settled down on Ron. She felt the syrup smear between them. Hermione licked his freckled face, her tongue traced the grin beneath. Their lips came together, and they kissed. His hard cock pushed inward, his orgasm went into sync with hers.

“Ignore the mess,” Ron whispered.

Ron wrapped his leg around her, wrestled her fast onto her back, and his eyes focused down onto hers. He grabbed an egg, rammed it toward her hard nipple, his other fingers there, and the shell broke against his finger nails. Ron moved, straddled her head, where she saw the hard cock, smeared in brown, pushed out surge after surge as he ejaculated onto her. Instead, he leaned over, began to lick. Hermione pulled him down, brought his large testicles to rest on her cheek as she held them there. She simply closed her eyes, smelled him, felt the dick that kept pushing surge after surge out.

“Better?” Ron asked.

Hermione reached, felt with her hand as she kept her eyes closed, grabbed a beer, brought it over, and began to pour it over Ron’s scrotum. She licked, tasted the bitter beer mixed with the chocolate flavor.

Pfffpt!

Hermione leaned up, held the hard cock with her hand, ran her tongue along his ridge, along the urethrae, where more chocolate flavor could be had, when she heard the movement.

“Sorry,” Ron said.

Hermione let her brain slow down, accept the obvious, as Ron dared not move as her teeth rested on his shaft while her tongue tasted. Her nose could smell as she heard the movements, as he defecated to where her head had been. Ron simply wanted her to take herself less seriously, to have fun, to enjoy time together, with him, to lift the burden of their plight, to show their passion. Hermione admitted that though Ron was being simplistic, it was working. She grabbed a beer, and they moved over to the kitchen island, while avoiding their droppings.

Burp!

Ron grabbed a bottle of Scotch, began to imbibe. Hermione took a few swigs, and quickly the night became a blur, and her memory became hazy of the night, not knowing exactly how nor when they blacked out.


	50. Sunday

“What no good beggar—”

Hermione’s head ached severely, it spun, and she gripped the hard floor as best as she could to avoid it tipping over Sunday morning.

“Hermione Jane Granger!”

Hermione’s eyes crept open, bit blurry, she recognized her mother, standing over her. Hermione was in the kitchen, of her house, laying starkers on the tiled floor with dried egg yolk on the skin of her breasts.

“What’s the big idea?” Linda Granger asked.

“Mum?” Hermione asked.

“Don’t _Mum_ me,” Linda said, “Your father and I managed to catch an early flight home only to come across you—this!”

“Quiet,” Hermione pleaded.

“How much?” Linda asked as she held up the Scotch bottle.

Hermione slowly sat up, the egg shells scattered across the tile floor, the red spots of ketchup, brown spots she didn’t want to think about. Hermione didn’t want to confess to the counts of her indictment, because she couldn’t remember, it sort of became a blur after she and Ron came into the house the previous evening.

“Her too?” asked Charles Granger as he came into the kitchen. Ron, starkers with streaks of brown throughout his hair including his pubic leading onto his penis, followed.

“Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?” Linda said, “I thought you were at Hogwarts.”

Hermione glanced past the discarded milk cartons, swept off dried rice from the bar stool, sat. Ron sat next to her, his bollocks hung over the edge. Linda sat to the other side of the kitchen island, Charles next to her. Fingers tapped on the granite surface.

“It…sorta…” Hermione started.

“Things aren’t exactly going great,” Ron said.

“Horrible is more like it,” Hermione said, “I thought it normal, at first, you know, because rumors, they’re part of being at a school, part of Hogwarts, and they can be mean at times. This year, a particularly nasty bunch focused against Harry, and that was just the start.”

“It’s gotten worse,” Ron said, “Somebody’s going around, impersonating, framing us. Such as the murders last month in Hogsmeade.”

“Is that what that letter was about?” Linda asked.

Hermione and Ron explained Hogsmeade, the first time.

“This _is_ serious,” Charles said.

“Whether it spooked them or not, there hasn’t been any murders since then,” Hermione said, “However, Ron and Harry are banished from Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley.”

“But isn’t Professor Dumbledore not caving?” Linda asked.

“It’s not his doing,” Ron said, “It’s the others.”

“Assaults, a poisoned lunch, a blizzard, an enchanted dildo, a booby trap or two,” Hermione said, “The other students don’t like it, blame us for what’s happening, don’t believe us when we tell em the truth, that we’re not responsible. They’re now ignoring us, so I go each and every school day with just Ron and Harry to talk to.”

“Hey!” Ron snapped.

“I need more,” Hermione said, resting her head on the granite surface. She ignored the specks of black pepper strewn about.

“We could talk to Noigate Public, they’d likely take you,” Linda said.

“No, no, I intend to finish Hogwarts,” Hermione said, “We’ve been coming here on the weekends, lets me talk to Gia, and the others.”

“Harry’s commute?” Linda asked.

“Yep,” Hermione said.

“Can we get a partial refund if she’s not at Hogwarts all the time?” Charles asked.

“We can spare a bit for our daughter,” Linda said, “Though I’d like to do more.”

“Wish you could,” Hermione said, “It felt good using my own bed—for all the charms they do at Hogwarts, nothing compares.”

“Me?” Ron asked.

“That too,” Hermione said.

“If you need anything else,” Linda said, “Don’t hesitate to ask.”

“The mess?” Charles asked.

“And clean that up too,” Linda said, “I presume its related.”

“We…sorry,” Hermione said, “After yesterday, we tried Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley, we got here and it sort of just happened.”

“Don’t start a habit you’ll regret,” Linda said.

“Speaking of habits,” Ron said, glancing at Hermione, her breasts above the edge.

“What?” Hermione asked.

“A tiny mess, help lift your spirits,” Ron said, turning on the bar stool, “It’ll lift mine.”

Hermione glanced at Ron’s stiffening todger, the brown streaks remained as it grew into a hard erection; she knew her parents to be right across the small bar, the one that she and Ron had played upon the previous evening.

“As you can tell, lifted,” Ron said, “A most beautiful girl, wouldn’t you agree?” His eyes turned to Charles.

“She happens to be _my_ daughter,” Charles said.

“Exactly, so you know all about it,” Ron said.

“This place should’ve been spotless,” Linda said.

“As it should be, once we’re finished,” Ron said, “However, we’re about to go up, work on our homework, so it’d be best to quell any distractions now, right?”

“What are you—?” Hermione started, she had the nagging feeling of what Ron was about to do.

“So, this here is the most wonderful girl in the world,” Ron said, “I’m dating her, and you’re obviously worried. Well, worry no more, for a little extra mess, I’ll settle any doubts that I know how to treat Hermione, and we’ll be able to study distraction free.”

“You think you can handle her?” Charles asked.

“Sure,” Ron said as he stood, his erection jutted out with his glans exposed.

“Ron,” Hermione said, as she tried to get him to listen.

“Good luck,” Charles said.

“Honey!” Linda snapped.

Ron, though, grabbed Hermione’s hands, she stood. He pulled her in close, wrapped his arms around her. She felt the hard erection against her skin, as he started to dance, a slow dance, obviously to a tune in his head. Ron reached, held her buttocks, and she shifted her weight. Ron lifted her onto the granite kitchen bar, and he climbed up.

“Make sure I treat her right,” Ron said.

Hermione blushed, as Ron was getting sexual _in front of her parents_. Ron knelt on the counter, pulled her hips upward.

“Give her a bit of pleasure before we go back upstairs,” Ron said.

Her buttocks rested on Ron’s hips, his hands began to work into the carpet, massaged her lace. She felt the mixture of emotions, the main one being that showing this to her parents, ones who already knew her to be sexual, even witnessed it, still different from that and being the centerpiece of the display, where Ron’s hard cock rested nearby. Hermione appreciated that Ron was trying to shake it up, when they were together, and that he was being casual about it; likely where the idea of the chocolate syrup had come from last night, the syrup that still lingered in Ron’s red hair. Instead, she simply grinned as Ron’s tip rested against her lace as her father watched, observed.

“You do this a lot?” Charles asked.

“Honey!” Linda said.

“Yep,” Ron said as he pulled on Hermione’s hips.

Ron’s hard shaft slipped inward, and he began to drill.

“Try right here,” Charles said as he pointed to the base of Hermione’s vagina.

Ron moved himself, the shaft worked down, the cock pushed against her front, it stimulated. Hermione understood, it felt much better, she giggled.

“He found it on me,” Linda said.

Ron rubbed her nipples while his hard erection moved. Each thrust sent a precursor of it, of the waves of contentment, waves that removed her parents from her mind, instead, simply waited for more as Ron kept it up. Concern of herself vanished as Ron kept drilling, the fingers kept working her tits, her clit. She felt the bearing down, the orgasm that Ron had long since learned to deliver, one he provided this time, one that kept any concern about being witnessed, out of her mind. Ron pulled out.

“We’ll see if you did this right,” Charles said.

Hermione felt the relaxation of her orgasm trip her bladder. Skin still parted, her golden shower sprayed upward, covered Ron’s scrotum as he took a moment to keep his balance. Sticky and white, Ron’s slit unleashed the payload, he ejaculated in front of her parents, both had watched.

“Sorry about the mess,” Ron said.

“More to teach you,” Charles said, “Just clean it up.”

Ron focused, concentrated, it took time, as Hermione realized he was attempting wandless magic. Neither she nor Ron were particularly good, however, she relaxed, let herself dribble as Ron used a cleaning charm.

“Can you do that more often?” Linda asked.

“Not supposed to,” Ron said, “As we’re supposedly at Hogwarts, shouldn’t be an issue.”

Ron got off the bar, helped Hermione off.

“Good luck Honey!’ Linda said as Ron and Hermione left the kitchen.

Ron and Hermione went up the stairs, down the hall, into her bedroom.

“You had to,” Hermione said.

“A beautiful girl, and you’re asking me to resist?” Ron replied.

“My parents!” Hermione said.

“Your Dad likes me,” Ron said, “Good sign.”

“Hmph!” Hermione said.

Hermione realized the issue as Ron searched for his book bag.

“I’d suggest Portkey, but…” Hermione said.

“Didn’t seem required!” Ron snapped.

“Sorry,” Hermione said, “I know showing sex to my Mum and Dad wasn’t on my to–do list.”

“If I could show my Mum, I would,” Ron said, “Let her know that I found somebody I care for, and it was closer than I had thought.”

“She knew,” Hermione said.

“Not entirely,” Ron said, “Wish I had the chance to make it up, tell her.”

“She’d approve,” Hermione said.

“Ta,” Ron replied.

“Lets go,” Hermione said.

They went out of her bedroom, back down to the kitchen.

“Going out like that?” Linda asked.

“Yes Mum, it’s alright,” Hermione said.

Hermione opened the door. She and Ron left.

“I didn’t realize how powerful Harry’s body magic was,” Hermione said, “It’s covering _us_ , and we’re not around him. I thought London was being reckless, but—Mum letting me outside?”

“He loves us,” Ron said, “Enjoy it.”

“Ta,” Hermione said.

They made it over to 26 Oak Street, entered.

“So, you can fly too?” Richard asked, starkers.

“Yep,” Ron said, “Got a broom myself.”

“I just flew yesterday, made it to France and back,” Richard said, “Just go to Dover, and turn, not too difficult.”

“Cool,” Hermione said.

“Hey, one of the fellows at the airport had some tickets for a boxing match,” Richard said, “Gia nixed Harry—”

“Good reason,” Ron said.

“Either of you two interested?” Richard asked.

“Jen?” Hermione asked.

“Not interested either,” Richard said.

“I’ll go,” Ron said.

“Good,” Richard said.

Hermione watched the pair of butts as Ron and Richard left the house. She squatted near the fireplace, rubbed Snuffles’ belly, before she went into the dining room. Textbooks were on the table.

“Hermione,” Harry said.

“Richard?” Jen asked.

“Ron took him up,” Hermione said as she sat, she put her hand into her hair.

“Hermione?” Harry asked.

“Tell you what,” Gia said, “I’ll take Jen instead.”

“Where?” Hermione asked.

“Something for Richard,” Gia said.

Gia and Jen stood, both starkers, and left the dining room.

“Why’d I get left behind?” Hermione asked.

“Well, come then,” Harry said as he stood.

Harry held out his hand, and Hermione took it. They went out the glass sliding door in the back of the dining room, walked across the grass of the back lawn. She felt the sun heating up her buttocks as they walked. She glance over, agreed with Gia, that this Harry was better, skin and all, wonder if Harry would actually follow the example of Ash, attend classes starkers. They went down the path, down the road, to the turn, and crossed over to the Noigate Commons .

“What’s up?” Harry asked.

Hermione sat on the bench that overlooked the pond a few feet away. Harry stepped in between, his bottle green eyes focused on her. Hermione’s eyes, though, steadied themselves on the sharp contrast in front of her, Harry’s hair lined genitals blocked her view of the ducks, so her eyes traced the contours of the flesh she had gotten to know so well; Harry’s scrotum held his bollocks up tight, she knew he was a bit cold, with his soft todger dangling beneath it, the foreskin had its opening aimed downward.

Hermione decided to not complain, let Harry stand there, unconcerned with his thick pubic hair, the small trail that led up to his naval. His genitals hung there, reminded her how sensitive boys can be about exposing them, that it was a sign of confidence from Harry to her.

“You seemed—yesterday,” Hermione said.

“Won’t lie,” Harry said, as she studied the ridge of his glans showing through his foreskin, “Fucking annoying, bloody hell, to be—unwanted.”

“You’re not unwanted,” Hermione said.

“Signs in Hogsmeade said otherwise!” Harry stammered.

Harry’s fingers tugged, stretched his foreskin. He held the penis to the side, and Hermione watched the sun soaking testicles start to loosen and drop. He stretched his foreskin again, the todger engorged slightly, had a more pronounced arch after he let the penis loose again. His eyes spotted hers, he turned slightly, and slightly spread the legs to let his balls hang loose. She smiled.

“It’s not your fault,” Hermione said, “Don’t take it personally.”

“Rather tough when the signs mention me, _by name_ ,” Harry said, “It’s been rough, it’s been a tumble, but I thought the wizarding world was better, with a bit of help, would be better. Poof, that fairy tale’s over, Hogwarts is just its always been, a castle with a school, nothing more, nothing less.”

“Sad,” Hermione said, her eyes watched him stretch his foreskin, again, “Hogwarts is your home.”

“A home that despises me,” Harry said.

* * *

Professor Dumbledore inspected the notary seal on this deed, the signatures were in order, Hogwart’s Quidditch Pitch had a new owner, just like the castle.

“Albus,” Professor McGonagall said as she entered the Headmaster’s Office, “I’ve heard a rumor, a couple of sixth years are—is that it?”

“I am simply getting my affairs in order,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Albus, consider Poppy’s suggestion,” Professor McGonagall said.

“If we had the time—” Professor Dumbledore said.

“That’s _exactly_ the point,” Professor McGonagall said, “With time we could cure—”

“In ordinary circumstances I would agree,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I’m afraid you can’t afford the distraction, none of us can. I ask that you respect my decision.”

“This isn’t some wager on Puddlemere United’s next match,” Professor McGonagall said, “We’re talking about your life—”

“Which is finite,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I intend to spend the time I have left, wisely. Thank you Minerva.”

Professor McGonagall left. Professor Dumbledore turned back to the other envelope, the one addressed to him, from Godric Gryffindor, and read it.

* * *

Jen panted, her breaths were shallow as she and Gia walked toward High Street, Snuffles followed.

“Calm down,” Gia said.

“I’m not as experienced as you,” Jen said, “Walking around starkers, _in the middle of town_.”

“Relax,” Gia said, “Breathe, rub.” Gia’s fingers reached her own clitoris, rubbed. Jen’s fingers moved to her carpet, rubbed into the hard point within the vulva. “Better?”

They stopped, Snuffles sniffed around. Jen’s fingers worked herself, her breathing changed, and Gia guessed to a likely orgasm as Jen’s muscles relaxed. They started to walk, but Jen kept her fingers within, rubbing as they kept going.

“You and Richard ought to go starkers more often,” Gia said, “I’ve not had a yeast infection in months.”

“Really?” Jen asked.

“Harry’s todger smells, tastes better,” Gia said.

“Because you’re used to it,” Jen said.

“No, I think it’s better,” Gia said, “Secret is, it’s not trapping the moisture, not nearly as long as it used to. I mean, I’m swimming when I can, and only bother when going to school. Harry—he’s starkers the moment he gets home.”

They went across High Street, into the short pedestrian mall. Gia found the door, and they went down the steps, beneath the cobblestone, to Bean’s Private Beans: _Adult Health Supplies_. They entered the black door with red lettering. Inside, magazines near the door were mostly covered, featuring skin. Snuffles whined for a moment.

“He’s a funny dog,” Jen said.

“Likely doesn’t want me going into a place like this,” Gia said, her fingers worked her lace as she slowly walked, “He needs to cheer up, maybe a new toy.”

Jen glanced at the chains, the whips, the ropes, the handcuffs on a rack.

“Richard’s Mum could get us the handcuffs,” Jen said, “So, why here?”

“Heard about it,” Gia said, “Maybe something of interest.”

Jen walked along, Gia followed. They came to the phallic shaped dildos, heard a nearby humming.

“What are they thinking?” Jen asked as she pointed to the large display model.

“As the guy will boast,” Gia said, “Some are more practical.”

Jen picked one up, felt the rubber, plied her fingers in.

“Real one’s better,” Jen said.

“This is always available,” Gia said.

“True,” Jen said, “Feels like that’s part of the gig, though, only when we’re both in the mood.”

“Well, something for when he’s not?” Gia said, before she grabbed one herself, “Or, when you’re not, you could shove this up his arse?”

“Ew,” Jen said, “You seem to land boys, get em to do what you want.”

“Boys don’t have as many ideas as they’d boast, they like quirky suggestions, so give em,” Gia said, “And if the boy’s behaving respectable, cute, handsome, and respecting me, cherishing me, I’ll consider it, and let them in.”

“You’re not dressed, may as well try it,” said the familiar voice.

Andy was sitting on the floor, starkers, held a vibrator against her clitoris.

“Aw…aw,” Andy said.

“Ew,” Jen said as she quickly put the dildo back to the display rack.

“Whatever you do, don’t tell Mum,” Andy said as she opened a boxed vibrator, one with fake testicles, and turned it on. She put the new one against her, worked it into her vulva, before she put the previous one back into a box. “Better.”

“You shouldn’t—” Jen started.

“Don’t be some righteous jerk like the one that tried to brainwash me today,” Andy said, “I’m going straight to hell according to him—bug off!”

Gia grabbed Jen, they made for the door.

“Don’t let her do that,” Jen said.

“It’s better not to try,” Gia said, “Would you rather squander your day with her?”

“No,” Jen said.

They left the store, climbed the steps, to come back to the cobblestone of the pedestrian mall.

“Besides, it’s not like I really needed that stuff,” Gia said, “Harry’s sufficient.”

“And his friends,” Jen said, “Don’t pretend like I haven’t seen that.”

“It’s because of Harry that I can do that,” Gia said, “Harry’s a great…man, may seem a boy, but he’s a man, a man with a large dick and even bigger heart.”

“Sure, he gives you a ring and you’re hooked,” Jen said.

“It’s his promise ring,” Gia said, “He’s still a boy at heart, so not yet ready to commit, not gone that far, but the ring lets me know he’s getting there, and it’ll be me. He’s simply made up of nothing but love, a deep love, and I feel it.”

“And that of Ron, Nate,” Jen said, “And did Richard speak the truth?”

“What’s wrong with that?” Gia said, “Harry’s a big man, he recognizes he can’t fulfill _every_ fantasy of mine, he’s teaching us to avoid the jealousy, that if you love your friends, sex is fine. He knows that at the end of the day, I’ll sleep with him, have sex with him, and that extra bit of caring does us good, if we let it. I’m sure he’d have sex with you, if you wanted it, and you’d understand.”

“He’s contagious?” Jen asked.

“I…suppose you could put it like that,” Gia said, “I’ve got no regrets, and—” she rubbed her ring “—he’ll keep.”

They came to the beauty salon.

“Gerald’s on duty,” Gia said, “Lets see how well he can do while hiding his stiffy. Glitter?”

Jen grinned, they entered. Gia’s eyes were on the young man in his early twenties as she sat down in the chair.

“I want to try something new,” Gia said, “Glitter, here—” she rubbed her lace “—make sure it’s advertising, alright? Wash it first, of course.”

Gerald blushed as he grabbed the sponge, knelt, and began to work Gia’s lace.

“Bit more,” Gia said.

Gerald rubbed a bit harder, and Gia felt the spasms, her orgasms began.

“Wonder what Richard will say?” Jen asked, as she waited.

* * *

Screech! Klackity Klack

“Level with me,” Richard said, as him and Ron were on the underground, leaning forward as they were sitting with their bare butts on the seats and their balls hung over the edge, “I know about magic, I know who Snuffles is, I know you and Harry are wizards, Hermione’s a witch, and you attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry .“

“I should wipe your memory,” Ron said.

“Harry forbade it,” Richard said, his fingers tossed his stiffy around, “Besides, we talk it over during our morning runs. I just see Harry as being stressed over the events at your school.”

“It’s been…unkind,” Ron said, “But that’s Harry’s life there, always has been.”

“He says it’s the worst its been,” Richard said.

“True, every year is worse than the previous,” Ron said, “It _is_ different this year, but that’s always the case.”

“When will it get better?” Richard asked.

“Summer, well, typically by the summer holiday,” Ron said.

Pfffpt!

“Long time,” Richard said, “Your school’s rather violent, assaults, rapes, and murders.”

“Those murders weren’t at school,” Ron said, “Nearby village we’re allowed to visit from time to time.”

“Not good,” Richard said, “All your kind like this? I know body magic lets you walk around starkers, but to be harassing an average person like Harry?”

“Harry’s not average,” Ron said, “He likes to think so, but he’s definitely not average. As Hermione likes to put it, he’s extraordinary, gifted, even if he doesn’t think so.”

They stood, Richard’s erection jutted outward, and they walked off the train. Ron curled his toes as they stepped onto the escalator, taking them upward.

“It’s nice to walk around starkers,” Richard said, “It’s nice to take a dump and nobody giving a shit you’re shitting on the sidewalk. Harry’ll even fuck Gia, at the swimming pool, in front of others—there’s no bounds to what you guys can do, is there?”

“Harry’s body magic is strong, I can feel it,” Ron said, “He’s the most talented flier I know because of it. I certainly couldn’t get away with going around starkers by myself, nor you. It’s Harry’s body magic that protects us, it lets me, it lets you, get away with it, because he wants to get away with it and he loves us, so we get his protection.”

They stopped at the pedestrian crossing of the traffic light, the road full of automobiles. Richard curled his fingers around his circumcised erection, stroked vigorously, people around them joined in the queue.

“So, that’s why I can…” Richard paused, steadied himself, as his off–white semen shot forth. He relaxed as the orgasm continued.

“Yes,” Ron said, “He’s why you won’t get in trouble for doing that.”

“So, he’s famous?” Richard asked.

“Your biggest gift, is to treat him as average,” Ron said, “Just be a friend, that’s what he needs, not money, not fame, just friends that he can trust, and love.”

They made their way to the arena, Richard handed over the tickets, and they entered. Took their seats halfway up, the ring right in front of them. Men, muscular men, stood in the ring, in their boxer shorts, queued up for a scale.

“The weigh in,” Richard whispered.

“Harry couldn’t watch this,” Ron said, “We tried, but it reminded him—he tries to be average, ordinary, but his life hasn’t been average nor ordinary.”

“Well, I’m not going to complain,” Richard said as he adjusted his balls resting on the seat, his slit still seeping out a bit of his semen, “This is most comfortable.”

“Harry’s definitely not complaining,” Ron said, “Even have an impressionable first year at school following his example.”

They watched the matches.

* * *

Ash felt the stimulation, her fingers around his aeola, his nipples firm, as Tina watched his dick stiffen. Ash leaned a bit more against the tree rooted on the bank above the shore of the lake. Ash enjoyed the breeze that went across his hard cock, felt nothing wrong, as he studied Tina’s blossoming breasts, the mounds that had started but still shallow to her chest. Each second of his exposure simply reinforced to his mind that he had made the right choice, to be known as a naked wizard, that he had lumped his old personality with those clothes that were simply taking too much space in his trunk, he wondered if he ought to get rid of them, send them back to his Mum so she could resell them. Ash knew that Tina appreciated his new found confidence, even if it wasn’t all the way, it was an improvement that made sense, a new school, a new _me_ even if it seemed like the skin of the old self.

“So, finished your essay on the cleaning charm?” Tina asked.

“No,” Ash said, “Tonight.”

“Good,” Tina said, “I’d love to read it.”

“You mean copy it?” Ash asked.

“No, no,” Tina said, “Can’t have us with the same words. Even though Potter’s hitting them up, the teachers aren’t that thick as to believe two identical essays.”

“You’re Ravenclaw,” Ash said, “I thought smarts were part of it.”

“You’re Gryffindor,” Tina said.

“And I found that going starkers gave me courage,” Ash said, “So here I am.”

“I don’t have your level of courage,” Tina said, “Not all the time.”

“Good,” Ash said, “Could you imagine the whole school starkers?”

“No,” Tina said.

“Me neither,” Ash said, snickering.

“Found ya!” said Finnigan as he approached. Macmillan and Thomas followed.

“Um…” Ash muttered.

“You’re in trouble?” Tina asked.

“One signature left—yours,” Finnigan said, “And we can liberate this castle once and for all.”

Ash shook his head.

“Chicken?” Macmillan asked.

“Detention,” Ash whispered into Tina’s ear.

“Detention?” Tina asked, aloud.

“Detention?” Finnigan said, “Sign first.”

Ash bolted, ran. Ash knew what they wanted him to sign, and he didn’t wish to sign it, he couldn’t—it felt like betrayal to the his mentor. Ash had to think about the detention that he had just given himself, as Tina followed, and he headed right for Hagrid’s Hut.

“Blimey!” Hagrid exclaimed.

Ash’s hand teased his bollocks, he felt the pleasure go through him, as he knew he needed to talk to this half giant, one that seemed intimidating but knew to be kind hearted, through Harry’s recommendation.

“Sorry—they think I’ve got detention,” Ash said.

Hagrid gave a look of befuddlement. Ash glanced around, grabbed the broom, and started to sweep the floor as Finnigan approached the now open door.

“Excuse us Hagrid,” Finnigan said.

Ash shook his head.

“Knock 'irst,” Hagrid said.

Knock! Knock!

“There, I knocked!” Finnigan snapped, “We just need him to sign—”

Ash shook his head.

“Detention 'irst!” Hagrid said.

“Later,” Finnigan said.

“Ta,” Ash said, putting the broom down.

“Where 'ya think 'ya going,” Hagrid said, “Detention.”

Ash grabbed the broom, swept, before he grabbed the mop for Hagrid’s hardwood floors.

Knock! Knock!

Buck and Tina stood there, at the door, starkers.

“Ash!” Buck said, “Professor Snape’s mad.”

“Professor Snape?” Hagrid asked.

“Ash misunderstood,” Buck said, “His detention was supposed to be with Professor Snape.”

“G’t movin’,” Hagrid said.

Ash left, went with Buck and Tina.

“Ta,” Ash said, “That sixth year wanted me—”

“I forged your signature,” Buck said as he took the lead along the trees.

“What?!” Ash stammered.

“They were about to call you a sympathizer,” Buck said, “You don’t want that, trust me. I convinced them that you’re simply afraid of Finnigan, shy as usual, that’s why you’re acting strange around him.”

“I didn’t want to sign _that_ ,” Ash seethed as they started down the path into the forest.

“And you didn’t,” Buck said, “You’re the only one who didn’t.”

“You signed?” Ash asked.

“I didn’t want to, neither did Gale,” Buck said, “But you’re right, I fear them more than I fear Harry.”

“That’s not right,” Ash said as they went through the brush, to the small pond.

“Cozy,” Tina said.

“We’ll make it up to you, alright?” Buck said, his fingers pushed on Ash’s chest.

“What’d you have in mind?” Ash asked.

“I already explained to Tina, about us,” Buck said.

“You—” Ash started.

“Relax,” Buck said, “She knows you’re interested in her too, so hold no fear.”

Buck grabbed Ash with his arm, rolled them both onto the ground, as Tina watched. Ash landed on his back, his shoulders beneath Buck’s thighs. Buck was on his knees, heels against Ash’s sides, his genitals directly in Ash’s sight. Smooth skin onto the engorging penis, the balls hung loose, Ash’s eyes saw the full balls hanging loose above him, the hard cock jutted outward. Ash felt his own erection stiffen.

“So it’s true,” Tina said, “You do love each other.”

“We’re friends,” Buck said, “Very close friends who’d rather not worry about it.”

“Delusions are experiences best shared,” Tina quipped.

“Good ones,” Buck said.

“Did you get Gale?” Ash asked.

“He _is_ serving a detention with Professor Snape,” Buck said.

Buck pushed Ash slightly, causing Ash to slide enough, so that both knees were against Ash’s head, while Buck knelt. Ash felt the testicles on his throat, the tip of Buck’s erection on the chin sneaking up. Ash stuck his tongue out, licked the foreskin.

“I learn something new every day,” Tina said.

“Maybe we’ll grow out of it?” Buck said, “In the meanwhile, have some fun? Up for the challenge?”

“What’s that?” Ash asked.

“You’ll find out,” Buck said. Buck spread his knees as he rested Ash’s head back onto the ground. Buck moved down, lifted Ash’s legs, and Ash felt the tip touch his buttocks. “Tina.” Buck patted Ash’s stomach.

Tina came over, squatted, sat on Ash’s stomach. Ash felt the full front of her vulva as she leaned forward, arched her back, and studied Ash’s blue eyes. Buck grabbed her hips, guided her backward, until Ash’s hard cock threatened to enter Tina’s vulva.

“Get it started,” Buck said to Tina.

Tina brought Ash’s hands up to her breasts. Ash pushed, felt inward, while she leaned in closer, kissed Ash. Her hands felt his chest, massaged his shoulders, while he felt the warmth, the tightness, overcome his shaft as it sunk into her. He felt the anus widen as Buck pushed the erection inward.

“You’re cute, handsome,” Tina said softly to Buck, “Are we friends?”

“Yes,” Ash said. He couldn’t argue, his balls rested against Buck’s bladder, and he felt Buck’s testicles against his buttocks.

“Those are big balls,” Buck said, “We plan to drain them to the last drop, any objections?”

“No,” Ash said.

Ash understood, as he felt Buck start up, encouraging Tina to. Ash knew these two were apologizing to him, in the way they knew he’d appreciate. A good cock from a good friend, asserting the passion they had, and his anus was happy to receive it, asked for and invited. Tina clearly liked what she had seen, Ash appreciated that he had these good friends, that being starkers simply strengthened their friendship. Ash’s hard erection slipped within Tina, he knew that Buck was guiding her motions, as she kept most of her weight on Ash.

“Yes, big balls,” Tina whispered with a break in their kiss.

Her lavender eyes kept their gaze on Ash’s, and Ash knew she was curious herself. Ash relaxed, felt at ease with both Tina and Buck, both interested in Ash. Ash reached, held her firm buttocks still as he felt the desire climax, pressure built fast, hard, and she let him keep his hard cock fully immersed.

“He’s going,” Buck said as Ash felt the spasms, “Gonna be big.”

Ash let the surge and the release occur within her, as his messy seed filled her cavity. Buck pulled out, and Ash felt Buck’s tip send it’s own surge against Ash’s balls. Ash kept orgasming, surging, within Tina. Tina simply smiled at Ash’s forming grin.

“We hereby apologize,” Tina said, “Forgiven?”

“Yes,” Ash said.

Buck stood first, his dick dripped.

“I simply ask you keep an open mind,” Ash said, “Can you?”

“I’ll be a critic,” Tina said, “Yes, I think I can.”

Tina sat up, stood. Ash’s semen began to seep down, drip from her lace.

“You’re really messy,” Tina said.

“A good mess,” Buck said.

“Yes, good mess,” Tina said.

“I’m your friend too,” Buck said to Ash, “I saw a drawing being made a short while ago, what they wanted to do to sympathizers. I didn’t want it to be you. Understand?”

“I guess so,” Ash said.

“I believe you, I believe Harry,” Buck said, “But I don’t want to be hogtied to be made to recant it, I don’t want them hogtying you either.”

“It’s rotten,” Ash said.

“I agree,” Buck said, “So, where is Harry?”

“Hiding,” Ash said, “He’ll hide until Monday morning.”

* * *

It was nearly evening as Harry studied the glint from the gold and silver glitter, it drew his eyes to Gia’s vulva, and the clitoris now being advertised. It outshined the glitter lining the lace to her vulva, outshined the glitter trying to bring attention to her erect nipples. A deep pink to the clitoris, made him think of little else, his erection firm.

“What do you think?” Gia asked.

“Its…fabulous,” Harry said.

Gia leaned in, kissed him as they went out the door and left 26 Oak Street. Harry saw the blushing of those they passed, the boys, the men, nearly all went pink. Harry knew it was the effect Gia wanted, to make them jealous with him aroused, and it worked.

“How far should we go?” Gia asked.

“How far do you want to go?” Harry asked, his eyes surveyed her, including the curves around her nipples.

“Let’s find out,” Gia said.

Harry admired the beauty walking beside him, the one who made him feel…normal. A beautiful girl who’s smile routinely gave him the erection he didn’t mind showing.

“Now?” Harry asked, holding his hard cock.

“And ruin the—this is a good job,” Gia said, “You appreciate it.”

“Yes,” Harry said, “It works.”

“Don’t let that down,” Gia said, with a smirk.

“Here?” Harry asked as they approached Taeyang Yong , with a picture of a steak on a grill.

“Sure,” Gia said.

They entered, were escorted to a table around a grill, and sat. Harry glanced at Gia’s bare breasts with the glittering nipples resting on the high wooden surface.

“I’ve got your attention,” Gia remarked.

“So…” Harry started, “They—I had always assumed that Hogwarts was for me, the moment I heard about it. They were…a bit cold, but welcoming.”

“Now you’re not so sure?” Gia asked.

“I don’t know, not really,” Harry said.

“If you could do anything, what would it be?” Gia asked.

“Dunno,” Harry said, “Adventure with Ron, come back to Hermione—and you. Maybe Quidditch?”

“So you don’t know?” Gia said, “Nothing wrong with that. At school, they’re trying to get us to figure out what we want to do, for a job, for a career. I don’t know either.”

“You swim, you act,” Harry said.

“I take the class—doesn’t mean I’m any good at it,” Gia said, “I do have one hobby.” Her eyes surveyed Harry, ignored the hard cock below and focused on his bottle greens betraying his interest in her nipples glittering on her bare breasts.

A man came over, with a pad of paper.

“What will you have?” the waiter asked, “Steak, Chicken, Shrimp?”

“Hmmm…” Gia said, glancing at the menu, “All three—enough for the two of us to share?”

“Sure thing,” the waiter said, “Drinks?”

“Yes, please,” Gia said, “Um…soda.”

The waiter left, Harry glared.

“We can’t go ordering a pint from _every_ establishment,” Gia said. Her hand reached down, held the two wads of flesh, the balls dangling over the edge of the chair, her fingers rubbed into the scrotum.

Harry sighed.

“You’re mature enough, right?” Gia asked.

“Suppose so,” Harry replied.

“You can’t go playing with your food every time,” Gia said, her fingers massaging his balls.

“You’re taunting me,” Harry said, his hard cock felt the urge.

“Hard times,” Gia said as she smiled.

The chef came over, with the white paper hat on his head, the black shirt. He tossed butter onto the large grill in front of them, it melted, and he tossed on the meat; chopped it. They watched the chef cook their food. 

“You?” Gia asked.

“Better,” Harry said.

Harry felt himself relaxing, the hand, the fingers caressing, feeling, massaging his freely hanging balls, was doing the job. Heat from the grill, her hand, loosened them, figured they showed beneath the chair to everybody around, and he didn’t care about that, simply appreciated the attention she gave them. Harry saw it for a moment, a flash, a woman writhing in pain in a garden, somewhere, screaming. Harry turned his head, his hand reached, held Gia’s left breast, he stared, and the awful image left his mind. He felt the firm nipple, one meant for a baby to suckle—he dismissed the thought, he was too young for that, too soon.

“You’re—got you good,” Gia said as her fingertips touched the slit of his dick, felt the bit of precum, “But wait.”

“Trigger it and I’ll assume—” Harry said, “Not like I could stop it, nor would I.”

“Don’t want you falling asleep,” Gia said.

“I don’t!” Harry said. Harry realized he was denying it, that drowsiness typically accompanied his orgasm.

The chef finished, put the food onto their plates, and began to clean the grill.

“Eat,” Gia said as she handed him a pair of chopsticks. Her left hand continued to massage his loose bollocks.

Harry took one small strip of steak.

“More,” Gia said. She removed her hand from his scrotum, held her breasts, and wiggled them; glint of the silver and gold reflections caught his eye, highlighted the nipples.

Harry ate several more. 

“More, more, more,” Gia said. She turned on the chair, brought her nipples closer and closer to Harry.

Harry laughed.

“Keep eating and I keep this up,” Gia said.

Harry kept eating as Gia teased her nipples against Harry’s skin; he felt the two hard points against his back, his arm.

“That griddle’s too hot to play on,” Gia said.

“Nope,” Harry said.

“Even though you’ve got a remedy,” Gia said, “Getting burned is never fun.”

“True,” Harry said.

Pfffpt!

“It’s a nice place here,” Gia said, “Best to not take a dump.”

“Outside,” Harry said, “Like a good pet.”

“Pet?” Gia said as she gave him a few rubs to the back, “Yes, cuddly, good pet.”

Harry snorted as he tried to laugh.

* * *

Hermione watched Ron, with his muscular form, take the steps, the pubic hair wrapped around his swinging dick, his arm swung with the black bowling ball on it, and it dropped onto the wooden lane.

Pfffpt!

Ron blushed, also watched the ball spin, catch into the gutter, and travel past the pins.

“It’s not the Quaffle!” Ron quipped.

Hermione grabbed the lighter green one. Ron held his dick up, toward her, played peek–a–boo with his foreskin, the pink glans repeatedly showed only to hide. Hermione tried to focus, walked.

Thump

Her ball fell to the lane, rolled slowly. She aimed her hand, tried for a wandless banishing charm. Her green sphere rolled a bit faster, it struck five pins.

“Hey!” Ron said, “No cheating.”

They glance at the scoreboard, showed Ron at eighty while she was at forty points.

“Another game?” Hermione asked.

Ron’s eyes loitered on her, with her nipples bare, simply smiled while his todger stiffened.

“Sure,” Ron said as he stepped closer and closer to her, the dick threatened to encroach.

“It’s easier to just say you’re not interested,” Hermione said.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Ron replied.

“It’s school tomorrow,” Hermione said as she headed for the door.

“Oh, yeah…funny,” Ron said, as he followed her.

He stopped by the soda station, refilled his cup, and they left; into the growing darkness. Ron’s right hand held onto his hard erection as they walked.

“No reason we have to wait to your parents’ place,” Ron said, “Library’s fine.”

“It’s closed,” Hermione said, “No—our stuff’s at Harry and Gia’s.”

She entered the small play area near Oak Street. Ron sat on the bottom of the slide; he leaned back, spread his legs, adjusted the sack of his balls beneath the hard erection. She stared, not at his cock, but the two lumps perched against his crotch, some hair, the nearby street lamp added light to give some shadows on his skin.

“You’re worried,” Ron said.

“It’s Harry,” Hermione said.

“You want to borrow his stiffy,” Ron said, “Don’t worry, we’ll take turns.”

“I know you would,” Hermione said. She remembered making that request, and both Harry and Ron treated it with dignity. “It’s more.”

Hermione couldn’t put her finger on it, but Harry didn’t seem alright.

“Relax,” Ron said, “He’ll get it right, he always does.”

Ron held his hard cock back, his pouch with both lumps prominent, as his dick pushed back against his thick pubic hair. She traced both wads of flesh, in her mind, the origin of his seed, and he was calmly letting them show, attached to the friendly one.

“I’m worried,” Hermione said.

“Not saying it’s the best odds,” Ron said.

Hermione knelt, knees onto the bark dust and chips, her eyes remained entranced by the roundness.

“Oh,” Ron said, “An essay—one roll.”

Hermione snorted.

She knew Ron to be warm, charming, witty, but right now, her mind was shifting to his bollocks. She’d seen them enough to realize that Ron wasn’t freezing, though not super hot either, as both testicles were pronounced, separated from his thighs, gaps to either side led to his boyish V.

“We can’t ignore the mess that’s happening,” Hermione said, her mind trying to let his balls calm her mind. Staring at each Ron’s testicles, so perfect, helped keep thoughts of those nightmares at bay. So round, so tender, so fun, showed her a soft side to him. “I fear it’s going to get worse.”

Hermione leaned in, brought her nose near his scrotum, sniffed. A faint odor from the anus not too far away, but most of the aroma was from the accumulated ripe sweat—Ron.

“It likely will get worse,” Ron said, “Will you stand with him? With Harry?”

“Of course,” Hermione said. She brought her lips to the lump to her right, kissed, sucked; a bit of his scrotum went between her lips, her tongue felt the skin, with follicles of the hairs on it. She released.

“Hey, hey,” Ron said, “Love you too.”

“It’s spiraling out of control,” Hermione said.

“Dumbledore has a plan,” Ron said, “Wish I knew what it was.”

Hermione worked the lump to her left, let her mouth envelope as much as she could, his hard cock pressed against her head.

“It’ll get better,” Ron said, “Always has.’

“At what cost?” Hermione said, “I fear that they Death Eaters have just gotten started.”

She turned her head, let both of the testicles saddle against her right cheek. A bit cool, the scrotum loosened as the lumps pulled in some of her warmth.

“The cost against us, me, you, and Harry, I fear it’s going to be high,” Hermione said, “Not sure if Harry can afford it.”

“What about me?” asked Harry, stepping closer.

Hermione glanced at Harry, the glint, the glitter around the edge of Harry’s foreskin, lines along his hard todger, his genitals sparkled.

“What happened to you?” Ron asked Harry.

“What’d you think?” Gia asked.

“You’re—it’s advertising,” Ron said.

Hermione studied Harry’s slowly contracting scrotum, a couple feet away. Both boys, always willing to share their candy, whether its on the Hogwarts Express, or now. She turned back to Ron’s, the one being presented, to her. She brought her mouth between the lumps, his urethrae settled between her nose and face, her tongue teased the skin, pushed between.

“He likes that,” Gia remarked.

“Keep going,” Harry said.

“She’s worried, about you,” Ron said, “She…”

“Pay attention to her,” Harry said.

Hermione licked the skin, the hairs went over her tongue as she did.

“Getting cold though,” Harry said, “Hot tub?”

“Sure,” Hermione said, as she stood up.

Ron got up. They walked the short distance to 26 Oak St, entered. Through the living room, up the second stairs, came out onto the roof deck. Both Ron and Harry got in, sat, while Gia and Hermione came in next. Hermione sat between Ron and Harry. Glitter floated for a moment in the bubbles, before sinking.

“Oh,” Gia said, “Didn’t think of that.”

“Nice while it lasted,” Harry said as Hermione’s right hand felt his scrotum loosening, along with Ron’s.

“Ta,” Gia replied.

Harry and Ron moved to the shallow spot, leaned back, let their testicle pouches show. Harry’s was glitter free.

“Go ahead,” Gia said to Hermione.

Hermione moved over, studied Harry’s testicles. Longer, skinnier than Ron’s. She realized Harry was interested, and she was curious too. She rubbed Harry’s balls, while she leaned back into Ron’s, let Ron’s shaft push against her face as she kissed. She appreciated that both boys let her play with their toys, both felt this was an experience best shared. While Hermione typically wanted the mental friendship, occasionally, the physical was more reassuring.

“She’s worried things are going to get worse,” Ron said.

“Of course they will,” Harry said, “They always get worse.”

Hermione, though, brought her fingers to Ron’s hard cock, felt his foreskin, the glans, while her face kept feeling his scrotum. Both lumps against her cheeks, her lips, as she kept exploring them. Ron’s hard cock rested with its ridge across her face, up into her hair, when she felt the spasm.

“Are you…” Ron started.

Hermione felt the pulsing, the surge along the shaft against her skin, the surge of sticky hotness in her hair.

“There you go,” Harry said.

Hermione flexed the softening dick, let the seeping tip leave dabs across her face while her lips, her tongue, felt the softness in Ron’s freshly squeezed testicles. Ron’s hands scooped up some water, her hands stopped them. She sat back, next to Gia. Ron moved over, sat next to her, the water up to their necks.

“Our turn,” Gia said, standing up, her glitter gone.

Hermione’s hand held Ron’s scrotum, the inseparable dick against her hand.

“Love you too,” Ron whispered to Hermione.

Hermione, though, watched Harry and Gia. Gia leaned forward, held the edge of the hot tub, with her rear in the air. Harry, from behind, penetrated, drilled. Though she thought Harry tried to delay the inevitable, he quickly held in, and pulled out a cock that was dripping with semen. Harry sighed, started to slump. Ron reached out, pulled Harry onto his and Hermione’s thigh. Harry’s limp head flopped backward, onto the shoulders, legs loose.

“Predictable,” Hermione said.

“It wears him out,” Gia said.

Ron wrapped Harry’s arms around their necks, gave Harry some stability. Hermione caressed Harry’s earlobe.

“It’s Harry,” Ron said.

“Bed?” Gia asked.

“Sure,” Ron said.

Ron and Gia lifted Harry, carried him out of the hot tub.

“Coming?” Ron asked.

“In a few,” Hermione said.

Ron and Gia entered the house.

Hermione reflected, as Harry had been keen to show her their sex. She had come to accept it, and she had also come to understand it. Harry’s not showing it off, as a badge of honor, but more of genuine desire to share the experience, that he wanted to share it with her. Hermione appreciated it, appreciated that both of the boys were interested, both loved her, and both would remain treasured friends for life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please consider leaving a comment! And/or, drop in on the discord.


	51. Petition

Ash woke Monday Morning to Tina wrapping her leg around him. Ash turned over, saw as she saw, their heads to the foot of Harry’s bed, where Gale stood, hand curled around his hard morning wood.

“It’s _always_ about the penis,” Tina said.

“An important part,” Ash replied, his hand explored her buttocks sticking up.

Buck, nearby, also watched as Gale started to massage, to wank, as he stood there.

“A show,” Tina said.

“We’re in a dormitory,” Ash said, “Perfectly acceptable to wank.”

“Yeah!” Buck said.

They watched as Gale, with his smooth hard dick against his smooth pelvis, take a deep breath. Gale tensed, relaxed, and they watched as his hard dick unleashed the white fountain, the semen poured out and went down his slit, to drop to the floor.

“So quick,” Tina said.

Gale blushed, Tina ran after him, out the door.

“Suppose _they_ will be along shortly,” Buck said.

“Stay,” Ash said, he had an idea.

“Look, I’m betting _my_ life on your word,” Buck said.

“I want to…” Ash let his eyes dictate, and they traced Buck’s boyish V with the soft and pliable balls hanging behind the soft todger. “Just wait.”

“You’re staring at my dick, aren’t you?” Buck asked.

“No—your balls,” Ash said.

Buck blushed, Ash watched Buck’s penis engorge itself as it stiffened. Ash felt the sudden mass fall on his legs; Ash didn’t have to turn over to know who it was.

“Morning,” Harry said.

“Before you get up,” Ash said, “Buck and I were talking about you.”

“You were?” Harry asked, “Anything good?”

“More of a debate,” Ash said, “But to settle it, he wants you to pork him.”

“Excuse me?” Harry asked.

“Bang him in the arse,” Ash said.

“What?!” Buck stammered.

“Right here, right now,” Ash said, “It can’t wait.”

Harry got out of the bed, stood up, bottle green eyes on Ash.

“Are you seriously suggesting—?” Harry stammered.

“Yes,” Ash said, “It’d clear something up, it’s very important.”

“I wasn’t thinking—” Buck started.

“Suggest you lie on the bed,” Ash said, “Show Harry your butt.”

Buck crawled onto his back, onto the bed.

“I’m not planning on banging everybody,” Harry said to Ash.

“Maybe you should,” Ash said, “Buck wants it, he needs it, really he does.”

Ash reached forward, held Harry’s testicles, massaged them, and Harry’s todger stiffened.

“Buck?” Harry asked.

Ash glanced toward Buck’s head, near Ash’s buttocks, caught those brown eyes.

“Please?” Ash whispered.

“Alright, alright!” Buck said.

“I wasn’t planning—” Harry started.

Ash, though, pulled Harry closer.

“Do it,” Buck said, putting his feet against the curtain railing above, his butt presented itself toward Harry.

“Holler if you change your mind,” Harry said.

Harry grabbed Buck’s hips, kept them steady as he brought his tip to the anus. Only a foot away, Ash watched the shaft slip inward. Harry touched Buck’s testicles.

“Full service?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Buck replied.

Harry held Buck’s pelvis, pushed and pulled, drilled the hard cock. Harry’s thumbs tickled, massaged into Buck’s scrotum. Harry kept this up for a minute, pulled out, rested his tip against Buck’s tip. Harry massaged Buck’s shaft. Ash witnessed the spasms in both, realized Harry had gotten the timing right. Both Harry and Buck ejaculated, their surges met right out the tips, and cascaded together down Buck’s stiff statue.

“Better?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Buck said.

“I need to clean up,” Harry said, as he went for the bathroom.

Buck got up and went for the door as Ron and Hermione landed on their bed. Ash followed Buck, out the door.

“Why’d you suggest that?” Buck demanded of Ash.

“What’d you think?” Ash asked.

“That was—the real Potter,” Buck said.

“What do you think of Harry?” Ash said.

“That’s what you wanted?” Buck asked.

“Would you let him do it again?” Ash said, “Could you see doing it to him?”

“Maybe,” Buck replied.

“Is that a friendly dick?” Ash asked.

“Sort of,” Buck said.

“Can you trust him?” Ash asked.

Buck started down the steps, Ash followed.

“Your idea was for us to have sex?” Buck asked.

“You can tell a lot from somebody by how they fuck,” Ash said, “Yay or Nay. You’re yay, for me.”

“Ta,” Buck said, “That’s why?”

“Yeah,” Ash said, “So, can you trust him?”

“He was good,” Buck said, “My bum will be a bit sore.”

“Can I count on you being a supporter of him, even if you tell Seamus Finnigan otherwise?” ash asked.

“Yes,” Buck said.

“I’ll let you fuck me later,” Ash said, “Purely as a _thank–you_ , of course.”

“Of course,” Buck said.

They entered their dormitory, put on their Gryffindor ties, grabbed their bookbags, and left. Down the steps, they came to the Great Hall, entered. Ash sat next to Gale; Tina came over, she was starkers, sat to Ash’s other side.

“Hello, again,” Tina said.

“You’re starkers,” Ash said, “Ta.”

“Thought I’d give it another try,” Tina said.

Buck sat to the other side of Gryffindor table. Ash’s todger stiffened, he didn’t care, as there was enough here to cause him to go stiff; Buck with his grin beneath the blond hair, Tina with her lavender eyes, and Gale peeing onto the floor as he drank his pumpkin juice.

* * *

Harry entered the Headmaster’s Office that afternoon, adjusted his uncomfortable tie, and approached the desk.

“Good afternoon Harry,” Professor Dumbledore said, his hand moved as fast as he could, albeit slowly, to cover the parchment on the desk.

Harry, however, recognized the ink, shimmering between crimson and gold, and the handwriting. He ignored the usual chair, stepped closer to the desk, where he read the words _expelled immediately_.

“What is it?” Harry said, “It concerns me, right?”

“It’s addressed to _me_ ,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“But it concerns _me_ ,” Harry said, “I ought to see it.”

Professor Dumbledore removed his hand. Harry took the parchment, read the letter.

Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

We, the undersigned, as students of Hogwarts, request that Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger be expelled immediately. Our safety is in peril so long as they remain at Hogwarts. Specifically, they have committed many acts against us, others, and themselves: Harry Potter raping Hermione Granger and others; using the Cruciatus Curse against others; setting booby traps against their house; beating up many including Ashland Hurley, Dennis Creevy, Seamus Finnigan, Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger, Gia Prescott, Stewart Ackerley, Luna Lovegood, Lisa Turpin, Kevin Entwhistle, Owen Cauldwell, Kevin Whitby, Tracey Davis, Graham Pritchard, and dozens of others; murders of Trelawney, Hooch, and a dozen Hogsmeade residents; poisoning the school lunch; and sleeping with teachers. These three are disgraces to the Wizarding community and deserve immediate expulsion. We formally request this action, which must be handled in accordance to §112.69(a) of the Hogwarts’ Rules and Regulations.

Sincerely,

Seamus Finnigan

Dean Thomas

Parvati Patil

Lavender Brown

…

“They…” Harry thought about it, how Hogwarts had lost its charm, and this was the proof. “I quit.” Harry wasn’t certain who was more surprised by those words, himself, or Professor Dumbledore.

“Old age must be playing tricks on my ears, Harry,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“You heard me,” Harry said, “I walk the halls of this castle and they are getting hurt for it.”

“It is not you doing the attacks,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Of that, I’m certain.”

“But they’re doing it to frame me,” Harry said, “By leaving, they can’t continue, not here, and it’d keep them safe.”

“In the short term, yes,” Professor Dumbledore replied, “What would you do? Where would you go?”

“Hang out with Gia—I can keep my wand, right?” Harry asked.

“You’ve passed your OWLs,” Professor Dumbledore said, “You would keep it—until Mr. Riddle has his way.”

“I’ll grab my things…” Harry drifted off, realized the implication.

“Not immediately,” Professor Dumbledore said, “You have requested, it is up to me to accept or reject it. It would be best to give you a chance to cool off and think about things, and perhaps, reconsider. I will schedule a meeting between you and Sirius, tomorrow evening? Wednesday afternoon, should you still desire to quit, repeat your statement and I will consider it final. Understood?”

“Yes,” Harry said.

“This is not something to be taken lightly,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Take your time and decide if its right for you. May the afternoon go better.”

“Ta,” Harry mumbled.

Harry held the parchment in his hand, left the Headmaster’s Office. He mounted his Firebolt, flew out the window. Harry neared Gryffindor Tower and the familiar window, when he glanced at the lake. Harry pulled to the right, went down to the farther edge, landed. A beam of light, from the sun poking through the clouds, came down upon him. He stripped, stored his clothes into his bookbag. Harry sat on the bank, legs spread, overlooked the lake.

Harry felt the heat of the sun rays, glanced up at the clouds, as if they were being forced to go around a boulder of blue sky. He bemused that it was likely the Headmaster, trying to change Harry’s mind. His fingers plied into his todger, he arched it upward, peed onto the dirt and grass below. His dick began to stiffen.

Harry surveyed the list of names, there wasn’t a single signature missing that he could think of, not even Ginny’s nor Colin’s, except for himself, Ron, and Hermione. To be rejected, by those who he considered unwavering, close enough that he’d trust them. It showed how effective the campaign had been—even Colin, somebody who tried worshiping with a camera, who signed, who was convinced. It was a vicious campaign, it was threatening those unable to escape Hogwarts, and Harry understood it was likely just getting started. Anger mixed with despair, only his fingers on his stiff erection blunted the edge of it, kept him calm.

“Hey,” said Ash, as he approached, “They forged my signature.”

Ash stood over Harry, the pasty white todger shone under the sunshine.

“All of these?” Harry asked.

“Just mine,” Ash said, “Some were pressured.”

“How many?” Harry asked.

“Only know of a handful,” Ash said, “Sorry, most were very willing to sign up.”

“Ta,” Harry said.

Harry glanced at the sudden pink as Ash’s foreskin retracted on the erection. Ash stood there, stiffy jutted outward, unconcerned.

“Don’t do it,” Ash said.

“It’s not up to you,” Harry said.

“It is up to you,” Ash said, “Don’t cave to them, to the bullies.”

“I leave and the bullies stop,” Harry said.

“For me, maybe,” Ash said, “What about you?”

“I…” Harry hadn’t really considered it that far, but he’d be pretending to a muggle, that’d work, wouldn’t it?

“Lemme show you something,” Ash said, “Lay back.”

Harry did this. Ash straddled as he knelt, over Harry’s chest, Ash’s hard erection loitered above. Ash curled his fingers around his erection, began to stroke.

“Wanking?” Harry asked.

“I learned to wank _because_ of you,” Ash said, “And I like it.”

“Obviously,” Harry said, seeing Ash’s foreskin slip with the fingers.

“You’re my _friend_ ,” Ash said, “I love my friends.”

Ash paused for a moment. Harry understood the gestures, witnessed the pumping action of the muscles, as the boyish lava squirted out. A bit onto Harry’s chin, most onto the chest, Ash ejaculated.

“Please don’t go,” Ash said as he stood, a pendulum of oozing semen clung to his softening tip.

“It’s not just about you,” Harry said, “It’s about the others too.”

Ash turned around, his buttocks flexed as he left. Harry stood, walked down to the edge of the water, bent over, picked up a stone, and flung it across the water; he watched it skip.

Pfffpt!

Harry was still torn, he didn’t want to let go of his youth, all those years spent in the castle, pretending it to be his real home; nor give in to those pressuring him to leave. However, these students, they had a right to live, to be at Hogwarts too, and his presence was endangering them.

Harry ignored the sound of muffled footsteps coming down the bank.

“No practice?” Hermione asked, her hands felt his bare buttocks before she held him from behind, her fingers moved down to rest in his pubic hair.

Quidditch, Harry would miss Quidditch. While he could certainly play Ron in the occasional pickup game, he’d miss the sport, the house team.

“How many students at Hogwarts?” Harry asked.

Hermione held his soft todger, and Harry began to pee.

“Gross,” Hermione said.

“It’s _my_ penis,” Harry said.

“Three hundred, give or take,” Hermione said. She shook his todger, the golden stream went back and forth. “Why?”

Harry pointed his finger, summoned the letter from his bookbag, handed it over to Hermione. She read it.

“This isn’t legal,” Hermione stammered.

“It’s a petition, it’s about how they feel,” Harry said. He sat down on the dormant grass, blades crept up his butt crack. His feet went over the stone dotted mud, and his heels went into a bit of the lapping water. “Dumbledore tried to hide it, but I insisted. I was naive when I showed up here five years ago, thinking magic was wonderful, would solve everything. Alas, people find ways to create even _more_ trouble. Doubt more than a few would cheer when I leave.”

“That’s not true!” Hermione protested, “Many—!”

“Would forget me after I quit,” Harry replied. He kicked with his heal, several small rocks tumbled, went into the water.

“You’d be admitting guilt—”

“Ta!” Harry snapped. He watched her eyes, sullen, staring at his loose todger hanging free. “It’s not about guilt or failure. Face it, it sucks being here and people are getting hurt, killed—”

“It’s not you!” Hermione protested.

“Somebody is hurting them here _because_ of me,” Harry said, “It’s not immediate—Dumbledore said I had to wait a couple of days before I could really quit.”

Harry paused, his eyes on her. He retracted his foreskin, her frown let up. He held up the tip, showed her his slit, and she relaxed.

“It is a serious matter and that’s reason enough to consider things carefully,” Hermione said, “While I would like you to stay, I won’t force you to stay.”

“Ta,” Harry said.

Hermione took the step closer, wrapped her arms around him, hugged tightly; her hands pushed him into her. A tear flowed down her cheek, onto his shoulder.

“I’m not leaving you,” Harry said, “We can still be friends.”

Hermione snorted, held him tight for a couple of more moments, the heat of their pocket sunlight kept soaking inward. Her left hand pulled back, slipped downward, slipped between his scrotum and right thigh, held loosely as she kissed him. His todger stiffened against her, and she caressed both of his testicles.

“But I wouldn’t see you everyday,” Hermione said, “I’ve gotten used to that.”

“Me too,” Harry replied, unsure what else to say.

Harry wasn’t certain what else to do, except stand there as she continued to hold his bollocks in her hand, holding him tight.

Pfffpt!

“You probably want to get going,” Hermione said.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

Hermione let him loose. Harry went up the bank, grabbed his bookbag, reached for his broom.

“Need a lift?” Harry asked.

“Much appreciated,” Hermione said.

Harry mounted his Firebolt. She got on behind, held his thighs, and put her thumbs in his pubic hair. Harry took off. It was a short flight, up to Gryffindor Tower, and in through the window. They landed, in their dormitory. Harry leaned his broom against the wall, grabbed his Hogwarts Pin, the Portkey.

“Um…sorry if I gave you a shock,” Harry said, “They, the others, they’re exposed to assaults and rapes. If quitting spares them, then it’s what I have to do, to protect them.”

“You’re not thinking it through,” Hermione replied as she stripped, “Even Professor Dumbledore knows that, it’s why he’s making you think before you quit.”

“I know he doesn’t want me to quit,” Harry said.

“You should consider that,” Hermione replied.

Harry activated his Portkey.

* * *

Hermione put a quill to the parchment a short time later, while seated at the table in the dormitory as she worked on her Defense Against the Dark Arts essay. Ron flew into the dormitory, his Quidditch robes billowed as he landed. He slammed his boom onto the bed, his eyes on Harry’s Firebolt.

“Doesn’t even bother to show!” Ron said, “Only a couple times a week and he’s chasing—”

“Ronald Weasley!” Hermione scolded, “I was under the impression that you thought better of your friends!”

“It’s bloody annoying when that so–called–friends ditches my Quidditch practice!” Ron said as he began to strip off his Quidditch robes, “Especially with a game on Saturday.”

“A friend that might not be here by Saturday,” Hermione said, “Nor me.”

Ron’s eyes focused on her with her bare breasts.

“Wh—what?” Ron asked as he tripped over a shoe.

“A petition,” Hermione said, as she described the letter. “They want us expelled. While Professor Dumbledore won’t honor it, Harry might.”

“He is?” Ron said, “I didn’t think he’d…”

Ron stepped backward, sat on the edge of his bed. Hermione glanced at the bollocks fighting for space.

“He’s taking it seriously,” Hermione said.

“I should remind him we’ve got a match on Saturday,” Ron said, “Against Slytherin, I need him to play.”

It bemused Hermione that Ron’s chief concern was the game, though she wondered if it’d work.

“You’re not taking this seriously—” Hermione started.

“I am,” Ron said, “Can we talk him into quitting after the match?”

Ron grabbed a book from his desk, rolled onto his front side, and began to read. Hermione glanced at the bare buttocks, and climbed on the bed, laid next to him, her hand felt up his backside. Ron closed the book, showed her the cover with insects adorning it, Vitamin B12 and Quidditch .

“Fascinating, mind if I read it?” Hermione asked.

“Proper eating affects your performance in the game,” Ron said, “Why risk losing your concentration at a critical moment, all because you didn’t eat the right stuff? As much as I’d love to just hand it over, and let you write me an essay on this, it’s way too important for me to just gloss over it now, right?”

“Sure,” Hermione said.

“Let me know when dinner shows up,” Ron said.

“Of course,” Hermione said. She patted Ron’s fleshy cheeks of his arse, returned to her essay on the table.

* * *

Gia studied them, hanging loose, as Harry stood by the edge of the pool. His right leg relaxed, cantered to the side, with his weight bearing down on his left. A gap between the thighs let his testicles hang loose between, the todger plum and vertical, with a mild retraction of the foreskin to let his slit show between the flittered edge of the skin.

“See what I mean?” Gia asked.

“You just asked me to judge your boyfriend’s wedding tackle,” Tracey said.

“It’s very important,” Gia said, “Less he think it’s inferior—you know how sensitive guys can get.”

“Yet you’re advertising them,” Tracey replied.

“It’s alright,” Nate said, coming to a stop.

“Of course—you’re starkers too,” Tracey snapped.

“Swimming’s great!” Nate said.

“Wonder why…” Tracey said, her eyes focused on Nate’s hard erection as he stood near Gia, also starkers.

“You look good man!” Nate said to Harry.

Gia jumped, pushed herself up. Nate pressed on her buttocks, helped push her up. Harry pulled her up, and Gia stood. She turned, glanced at Tracey’s glare.

“What?” Nate asked Tracey.

Harry, though, gave a light tug, and Gia followed him out of the pool into the early evening. Snuffles brought his snout close to Harry’s bare arse, sniffed, before he ran far and wide.

“What’s it with my godfather trying to sniff—?” Harry asked.

“Shh!” Gia said, “Rough day?”

“You can say that,” Harry stammered.

Gia worked his shoulders, put her arm around him, felt the bare buttocks as they walked. His bottle green eyes glanced at hers, they both glanced down to watch his dick stiffen.

“Talk about it, when we get home,” Gia said.

“Not sure—” Harry said.

“Talk about it,” Gia said.

“I’ll think about it,” Harry said.

Gia felt his gluteus maximus muscles flexing. They kept walking.

Pfffpt!

They made it to 26 Oak Street, entered through the front door.

“I’ll get something,” Gia said, “Meet ya upstairs.”

Harry grabbed her bookbag and went upstairs, into her bedroom. He put the bookbag down when he felt a snout sniffing his bare anus. He snorted.

“What’s with dogs trying to sniff my arse?” Harry asked as Snuffles transformed.

Sirius closed the door, his eyes bearing down on the teenage wizard.

“What?!” Harry demanded.

“Funny enough,” Sirius said, “Your scent is very useful to verify that it _is_ you. And since you’re eager for me to protect her, I’ll sniff what I need to sniff. Your diet could use an improvement.”

“Wonder if my father knew you liked sniffing butts” Harry asked.

“James never considered quitting Hogwarts,” Sirius said.

“The entire school—Slytherins, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaws, and even Gryffindor, they all signed a petition to have me expelled,” Harry said, “They’re blaming me for everything, but the fact is that people are getting hurt by whatever is going on. I figure it’ll stop if I left.”

“James Potter would be very disappointed by you getting shoved out,” Sirius said, “Not to mention the benefit a certain individual would gain from an eviction.”

“Voldemort is nowhere near—” Harry said.

“He is not the only Dark Wizard,” Sirius said, “He has followers, any one of whom could easily be perpetrating this. Consider this very carefully, especially as Dumbledore considers it ill–advised.”

A jiggling of the door knob sounded for a moment.

“Harry!” Gia called through the door.

“Now,” Sirius said, “As a responsible godfather—”

“You? Responsible?” Harry said, his dick began to stiffen.

“It’s worse than I thought.” Sirius watched the erection firm up. ”It is like James’, you inherited that from him, may it serve you well.”

“You need a flea bath,” Harry stated.

“I encourage you to wait for marriage,” Sirius said.

“To which quitting would make that easier!” Harry said, “Not that we’re waiting—”

“Son of James Potter,” Sirius said, “You should be waiting as I’m certain they’d want—”

“Lemme see.” Harry counted on his fingers. “They were married—”

Knock!

“Hey!” Gia shouted.

“If only her father was still alive—” Sirius started.

“Just butt out!” Harry snapped.

Gia opened the door, Sirius transformed, and Snuffles ran out. Gia placed the platter of food onto the bed. She grabbed a brush, knelt in front of him, her eyes on his crotch.

“I want you to tell me about the day,” Gia said, as she brought the comb to pull it through his jet black pubic hair.

“They—” Harry described the letter as she pulled out knots.

“Oh, rough,” Gia said.

Gia carried the platter, they left the bedroom, walked through Richard’s bedroom, went out onto the roof deck. Gia placed the platter on the ledge, turned the knob, and they stepped in. Harry felt the heat, the bubbly jets wash over his skin as he sank in, his balls trying to float, and sat on the bench.

“I told them I was quitting,” Harry said, “They want me to go through the motions, so Dumbledore’s going to try talking me out of it tomorrow.”

“Quitting?” Gia said, “Dropping out of school?”

“It’d mean I’d have more free time to spend with you,” Harry said.

“I love you, but you’d be a distraction at school,” Gia said, “Unless you’re intending that I quit too.”

“No, no, keep going to school,” Harry said, “I’m sure I’d find something to entertain myself.”

“That’s what going to school would do,” Gia said, “Or, get a job.”

“Don’t need to,” Harry said.

“You need to do something,” Gia said.

“It sucks, giving up,” Harry said, “But the other students would be safer.”

Gia leaned in toward Harry, straddled his legs, her nipples pushed into his chest as she squatted. Her blue eyes focused on his bottle greens.

“Take Ash,” Harry said, “Sweet kid, but my impostor raped him, a number of times. He’s acting out, he’s become overtly sexual, he’s talking others into sex—”

“You had a hand in his discovery,” Gia said.

“He abused it!” Harry stammered.

“He’s eleven, you’re sixteen,” Gia said.

“Still, if it weren’t for me, he’d be better off,” Harry said.

“And he’d have been expelled,” Gia replied.

“He would’ve been withdrawn,” Harry said, “They wouldn’t have snapped his wand over it, simply recommended other educational options.”

“Well,” Gia said as she gripped his hips, “What do you want to do, Harry James Potter?”

“It’s not like it’s an easy choice to make,” Harry said, “But it feels right, for the best, and so that’s what I’m going to have to do.”

“Maybe let Kristen know she’s got somebody to keep an eye on Ant,” Gia replied.

“No, no, not that,” Harry said, “Maybe—maybe I’ll see if George and Fred need another hand in their shop, stave off the boredom while you’re in school.”

Gia lowered herself, let his hard cock slip inside her.

“Simply feels like the right choice, the right thing to do,” Harry said, a twinge went though his heart, “Abandon Hogwarts.”

Harry sighed, turned his attention to the boobs moving on his chest, as Gia rode his hard cock, her hands on his hips. She calmed down, got off, sat next to him. Harry’s right fingers reached down, toyed with her clitoris, until she breathed deeply, relaxed. Gia began to snore. Harry lifted her, carried her out of the hot tub, his own erection, unrelieved, swung.

“It’s normally the other way,” Richard said as Harry carried Gia through.

Harry entered her bedroom, laid her on the bed. Ron and Hermione stood there, starkers.

“Hey,” Ron said, “Any thoughts?”

“Plenty,” Harry said.

“Can you quit _next_ week?” Ron said, “I’ve got an idea, and could really use your help against Slytherin on Saturday.”

“Have you seen how we play?” Harry said, “Slytherin will cream us.”

“Quitting before we lose?” Ron said, “Besides, you’ll want to see my plan in action.”

“Nice try,” Harry said.

“Anything to change your mind?” Ron asked.

“No,” Harry said, crawling onto the bed. He laid down, faced up, his erection jutting upward.

Ron sat on the edge of the bed, reached over.

“You’re a real pain in the arse,” Ron said, as his fingers curled around Harry’s shaft, “You know that, right?”

“Whatever,” Harry said, “Sorry, it’s something that has to be done.”

Ron teased Harry’s testicles, the fingers worked the scrotum, before his hand began to stroke.

“We want you to stay,” Ron said.

“We’ll quit with you,” Hermione said to Harry, “Help you figure out what Voldemort’s up to, counter whatever bigger plan includes the mess at Hogwarts.”

“ _After_ the game,” Ron said.

Harry felt the strokes doing the trick, felt the spasms start.

“There’s more to it than Quidditch,” Hermione said.

Harry felt the pressure release, Hermione’s eyes on the slit at the end of the dick as the pumping began. Surging upward, his sticky magma swelled and pushed upward. Harry ejaculated, the shot went upward before it cascaded downward over Ron’s fingers.

“Feeling Better?” Ron asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “I’m sorry, but quitting simply makes sense, protect the others, including your sister.”

Harry succumbed to the wave of fatigue, and he fell to sleep.


	52. Prophecy

“So,” Richard asked, “You’re really going to through with it? To leave your school?”

Both pairs of testicles jostled in their scrotums as they ran Tuesday morning, sweat, untrapped, evaporated off their bare skin.

“Wish I didn’t have to, nor is it easy,” Harry said, “But it’s the right decision.”

They ran to the red haired girl, waited for the light. She pulled up her shirt, flashed her tits, the hard nipples, then giggled at both erections stiffening up.

“Show me!” Lisa said.

Richard bent over, his balls hung loose between the legs, mooned her. Lisa giggled a bit more, her eyes on the bare anus, the testicles. The light turned. Harry turned around, ran backward, her eyes watched as he crossed the street. Harry turned around, ran.

“Thank you, by the way,” Richard said, “For suggesting—better way to run.”

“No jockstraps, no shoes, no shirt,” Harry said, “It’s how we are meant to run.”

Pfffpt!

“No underwear to get that onto,” Richard said.

They laughed. Harry resisted the urge, the pressure build as he ran.

“Today?” Richard asked.

“Meeting tonight—I’ll formalize it tomorrow, so I’ll go tomorrow, then never again,” Harry said.

Harry glanced at Richard’s soft dick flopping from the pubic hair as the yellow jet began. Harry glanced away from Richard taking the piss, kept his eyes forward, because he didn’t want to pass along the suggestion.

“Sounds good, I guess,” Richard said.

“Wish I didn’t have to,” Harry said, “Too many people getting—they’re next.”

Harry sighed as they returned to 26 Oak St. Richard made it in first, climbed the stairs, as Gia, dressed, came down.

“Hi,” Gia said, giving Harry a kiss, “Good luck.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, his bladder full, “You were supposed to wait—”

“Sorry,” Gia said, “It’s the way it is.”

Gia grabbed Snuffles, left. Harry went up, when he saw Andy dart across into the bathroom.

“Hey!” Richard shouted.

“OUT!” Andy barked.

Harry decided it’d have to wait a few moments. He went into Gia’s bedroom, grabbed his wand, Portkey, and bookbag, activated it. A heavy weight climbed onto Harry as he landed on his bed at Hogwarts.

“Don’t do it!” came the recognizable voice, Ash.

Harry saw the hairless scrotum, right in front of his face, as Ash was laying on Harry. Harry felt the fingers on his soft dick, the tongue on the foreskin, as Ash started to lick. Ash’s chin to the bladder, and Harry’s sphincter muscles relaxed; Harry began to piss into Ash’s face. Ash’s soft todger stiffened rapidly, the erection pushed against Harry’s chin. Ash lapped at the stream as Harry kept pissing, on the bed.

“Ash!” Harry pleaded.

“We’re not stopping him,” Ron said, standing nearby, watching as Ash kept licking, kneading into Harry. “Toilet’s busted anyways.”

Ash’s fingers worked fast, efficiently, after Harry’s yellow torrent stopped. Ash licked, worked Harry’s foreskin, drew out the erection. A few more licks and pulls, Harry felt the clenched release, the surge, as he ejaculated.

“Please stay,” Ash said.

“Off, off,” Harry said, “I need to talk to Dumbledore—shower first.”

Ash moved, Harry got up.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be changed by tonight,” Ron said, dismissively.

Harry went into the bathroom, slipped into the shower, Hermione was in there.

“And?” Hermione asked.

“Nothing’s changed,” Harry said.

Hermione worked the soap into a lather, began to wash Harry’s skin. She plied the soap against his todger, her fingers slipped up the foreskin. She stopped the fingers still, held both sides to his foreskin, inside and out, between her fingers, her eyes on it.

“There’s got to be another way,” Hermione said.

“Then what?” Harry asked.

“Catch them in the act,” Hermione said.

“Like we know _that_ ,” Harry said, “And even if we did know their schedule, could you stand by while we use the other students as bait?”

“No, no, of course not,” Hermione said.

She waited there for another moment, watched as his todger engorged itself again, the glans pushed past her finger.

“Ta,” Hermione said as her finger worked his slit, wiped away a bit of the semen, before she lathered it up, and washed his glans.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

Harry appreciated Hermione, appreciated how they had helped her loosen a bit, to enjoy herself, and them, without hesitation. Harry found Hermione much more relaxing than Ash’s attempt at a blow job; Hermione was fine with it too. She squatted, began to pee onto the shower floor, the water carried it away; Harry began to work the shampoo through her bushy brown hair.

“Ta,” Hermione said, her eyes focused on his softening todger beneath his black pubic hair, “Like a good fungus, it grows on you.”

“Get a move on!” Ron shouted, “Can’t bang _all_ day now, can we?”

“He’d love to,” Harry said.

Hermione laughed.

Pfffpt!

Hermione took the washcloth, immediately wiped down Harry’s butt crack.

“It’s an arsehole,” Harry said, “Mine.”

“Looks better clean,” Hermione said, “Makes you seem smarter too.”

“Ta,” Harry said.

Ring!

“Hurry up!” Ron shouted.

Harry and Hermione dispensed with the pleasantry, grabbed new washcloths, washed themselves, fast.

* * *

“You _did_!” Buck said as Ash entered the first year boys’ dormitory.

Buck sniffed at Ash’s face, nodded.

“I tried to make my case,” Ash said as he stepped beneath the shower.

Ash glanced at Buck standing there, blond hair and brown eyes, the smooth skin down from the belly button onto the todger, the testicles behind showed Buck’s left hung below the right.

“Don’t get distracted,” Buck said, “We’ve already missed breakfast.”

“I know,” Ash said.

“I mean it,” Buck said. Buck turned around, Ash stared at the two buttocks, with the crack to the anus. “I knew it!”

Buck went back, hid behind a four poster bed. Ash finished, went out, grabbed his bookbag.

“At least no dressing required,” Buck said.

They left the dormitory, went fast, down to Defense Against the Dark Arts. Ash sat down next to Tina, who was starkers.

“I’m not saying I believe in Potter,” Tina said.

“What do you believe in?” Ash asked.

“You,” Tina said.

Ash blushed. Realized he felt more embarrassed by _that_ statement than being starkers in class, with a stiff erection. Ash appreciated it, as much as he wants to hold onto Harry.

* * *

Harry adjusted his tie as he entered the Headmaster’s office later that morning. Professor Dumbledore got up from behind his desk, slowly walked over to the armchairs by the fireplace. A flick of the wand, the fire roared, and a teapot appeared on the coffee table. Harry sat to the other side.

“I apologize if I underestimated your sensitivity Harry,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Sensitive to care about _them_ —” Harry pointed to the door “—not getting hurt, maimed, or killed?”

“It is noble, but to a fault,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Still, you must be free to make up your mind.”

“You’re doing that?” Harry asked.

Professor Dumbledore’s hands shook, poured two cups of tea, handed one over to Harry.

“To give one the freedom to choose necessitates a bit of allowing one to make a bad choice,” Professor Dumbledore said, “That’s the irony of fighting the dark, one must let them hang themselves, by their own choices. To impose my desires upon you, I would do you no favors, especially given how dark the path may become, I cannot force anybody to undertake it.”

“Understood,” Harry said.

“Have you considered what you’ll do once you leave?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“No, I haven’t,” Harry said, “Hermione thinks I should go after Voldemort.”

“Unprepared?” Professor Dumbledore said, “Luck only goes so far, it’d be better to turn the odds first.”

“What’d you suggest?” Harry asked.

“Remain in attendance at Hogwarts where I can assist,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“I’m quitting, remember?” Harry stammered.

“With a bit of persuasion, you could talk to Severus into helping you with Occlumency,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“No way,” Harry replied.

“Well, I think you need a bit more time to consider this,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Please, take your time.”

Harry got up, left the office. Harry went up the stairs, up the stairs, came to the top of the Astronomy tower. He glanced out, over the hill sloping away, toward the lake, toward Hogsmeade, the village that has rejected him—Hogwarts Castle was next.

* * *

Ash and Gale left Defense Against the Dark Arts. Tina and Buck went ahead of them. Ash pulled Gale into the second floor girls bathroom.

“We’ll get caught,” Gale said.

“Nope,” Ash said.

Ash held Gale’s face, studied the blue eyes beneath the blond hair. Ash felt the passion, for his friend, starkers before him. Ash pressed against Gale, who sat on the sink. Ash felt the Gale’s testicles, while his tongue worked with the kiss. Ash’s dick stiffened, he pushed his glans against Gale’s.

“Ew…ew…” said Moaning Myrtle.

“Wha—?!” Gale stammered, as he pushed Ash back.

“Cute boys ought to be with pretty girls!” Myrtle said.

“Get between us,” Ash said.

Myrtle smiled.

Ring!

“One minute!” Gale stammered.

Gale and Ash left the bathroom.

“See you at lunch,” Ash said, his mind flickered to the Stone Gargoyle.

“Where are you—” Gale asked.

“An excuse—for me,” Ash said.

Gale hurried down the steps, Ash went over to the Stone Gargoyle. His remembered it, from Harry’s parchment.

“Everlasting Gobstopper!” Ash said.

The stone gargoyle moved, and Ash stepped onto the ascending staircase. He entered trembled for a moment, before he pushed the door open and entered.

“Mr. Hurley, what seems the matter?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“Harry,” Ash said, as he approached the man still sitting on the armchair, “Anyway to stop him quitting?”

Professor Dumbledore poured a cup of tea, handed it over to Ash. Ash sat on the armchair, spread his legs as he propped his feet up on the low coffee table. He blew across the mug, about to take a sip, when he glanced down. Ash blushed as he realized his hard cock, with its foreskin retracted, was aimed with his glans at the Headmaster.

“May you live to a ripe old age, even surpassing myself,” Professor Dumbledore said, “However, at a certain point, your body will mark the passage of time, and soon, even simply boyish acts are nigh impossible without assistance. A reminder of your youth is not unwelcomed here.”

“Harry did not deliberately set out to do it, but I’ve gained confidence in my skin, myself, others,” Ash said, “My _youth_ is a means to an end.”

Ash glanced at the blue twinkling eyes, fatigue of ages past weighed down, they drifted, and Ash realized his hard erection was being scrutinized, even if the Headmaster wanted to feign ignorance.

“I cannot force a student to remain in attendance who does not wish it,” Professor Dumbledore said, “As to what may lie ahead, should Mr. Potter remain, I cannot trick him into remaining. He must do so, voluntarily.”

“He can learn here!” Ash said, “Learning is important, no matter who your foe is!”

“I’m glad that you believe that,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Mr. Potter simply feels that Hogwarts no longer wishes for him to be here.”

“That stupid petition?” Ash said, “I’m the only one they had to forge the signature on!”

“Then, can I count on you as a supporter?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“They’d kill me,” Ash said.

“Naturally, your own safety comes first,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“They think I’m nutters for going around starkers,” Ash said.

“So, it’s benefiting you?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“Yeah,” Ash said, “It’s not like I’ve stopped being shy, still am. This helps.”

“Remember that Hogwarts rules of behavior still apply to you,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“I do,” Ash said, “Anything else to persuade Harry?”

“I’ve done, or about to do, the limit to which I can do,” Professor Dumbledore said, “And I dare say you’ve got Potions, so do not leave Professor Snape worried about you.”

Ash stood, his hard erection jutted out.

“He won’t,” Ash said.

Ash left the office.

* * *

“You’re serious?” Hermione asked Ron and Harry, as they worked at cleaning up their equipment at the end of Tuesday’s all–afternoon Potions session.

“Yeah,” Ron said, before he whispered to Harry, “If it’ll matter.”

“You’ll be at the match, right?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Ron said, “I’ll definitely wait until after then.”

They finished their work, watched as Malfoy had Crabbe and Goyle slave into doing their cleaning. Harry stayed, watching, until Malfoy gathered his bag. Harry made the rush, led the way out of the Potions classroom, and slowed down on the stairs.

“Hurry up mudfuckers!” Malfoy shouted, “Move your sorry arses!”

“Show it to Ron,” Harry said to Hermione.

Hermione got out a piece of white paper, waved it about carelessly, and shoved it toward Ron.

“What’s this?” Ron asked, before he read, “Oh, this’ll be good.”

“Something you two had better memorize,” Hermione said, “Could take days to master, but you’ll manage if you want any—”

“It’ll take practice,” Ron said.

Malfoy got a glint in his eye, darted his head back and forth, trying ot glimpse the paper. Harry shoved up, looked over.

“Seems simple enough—” Harry said.

Malfoy glimpsed the title of the spell, his eyebrows raised. They crossed the threshold into the Entrance Hall.

“Good find—” Ron said.

Malfoy pushed Hermione, reached over, and grabbed the paper out of her hands. He stuffed it into his pocket and stepped back.

“Hey!” Hermione exclaimed.

Ron grabbed Malfoy’s shoulder, spun them both around until Ron’s face was pressed into Malfoy’s. Students gathered about to watch.

“You stole—” Ron stated.

“You’re imagining things Weaselbee,” Malfoy said, “Vin, Greg, see anything?”

Crabbe and Goyle shook their heads.

“See?” Malfoy spat.

“We saw—” Harry said.

“Well—” Malfoy stepped back, drew his wand. “It’s your incredible word against mine—”

“Suggest you return that before it gets ugly,” Ron warned.

More people surrounded them, including Ginny and Ash. Ron took several steps backward, and he was flanked by Harry and Hermione.

“More murders?” Malfoy spat at Ron’s feet.

“It is your wand that is drawn,” Ron said.

Harry glanced at Malfoy’s trousers.

“I’ve had it with your slander—” Malfoy sneered, before he stopped.

Gasps, snickers came, eyes fixated on Malfoy’s trousers, where a rapidly growing wet spread outward. Out of the crotch, wetness expanded, a yellow shower came forth. Malfoy reached for his trousers only to have the belt open and the trouser seams split open, fell apart, his white tight briefs seeping with yellow as he kept pissing through the cloth.

“You’ll pay,” Malfoy said, “Never humiliate a Malfoy.”

“Then see Pomfrey about diapers for your _problem_ ,” Ron said.

Everybody laughed as Malfoy modeled his yellow dyed white undies with a bulge of his testicles pressed against the cloth. Malfoy’s wet shoes squeaked, a squeak that echoed in the hall, as he retreated down the stairs to the Slytherin dormitories. Harry started up the marble stairs, as he didn’t wish to advertise their usage of their brooms; Ron and Hermione walked by his side. Ginny chased up from behind.

“What a jerk,” Ginny said, following, “Did he really steal—”

“Is it stealing when we wanted him to have it?” Ron asked.

“What?” Ginny said, “You wanted—”

“Shh!” Ron said, “Let’s _not_ talk about it!”

“Yeah,” Harry quipped.

“Did you manage to book the field today?” Ginny asked.

“No, Slytherin has it,” Ron said, “Useless, their practicing, they don’t have a chance.”

“You could say the same about us without more practice!” Ginny said.

They went up the steps to the seventh floor, came to the fat lady.

“Gone,” Ginny said to the portrait, it opened.

Harry ran, up the steps, into the dormitory. He stopped at the package on the bed, one made out to him in familiar loopy green handwriting, and he picked it up.

“It’s a shame you decided to quit,” Professor Dumbledore said, “At least it frees me of the restrictions that prohibit me from lending you those.”

“Oh,” Harry said.

“I need to speak with Sirius,” Professor Dumbledore said, “So, let us go.”

Harry got out his Portkey, activated it. Professor Dumbledore held on, and they flew toward Noigate. Harry had stripped starkers before they landed.

“Efficient,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“I’ll go and get her—with Sirius,” Harry said, “Be back shortly.”

Harry went down the steps fast, the door opened before he got to the bottom, ran out, and the door closed itself. Harry did the fast pivot on his foot, turned and took the path that ran next to the house. His toes gripped into the dirt as he ran across the commons, sunlight between the clouds warmed his bare buttocks as he ran. Across the zebra crossing, right at the bus stop, Harry made his way to the Noigate Pool , entered.

“He’s here,” said Tracey.

Gia, starkers, swam a few more laps.

“Go home,” Harry said to Snuffles, “Your friend Albus is there.”

Snuffles bounded out of the pool.

“Intelligent,” Tracey said.

Harry squatted next to the edge of the pool, his stiffening dick jutted outward.

“Come on in,” said Nate, pausing between laps, his bare butt went into the air as he flipped.

Harry fell forward.

Splash!

Harry felt the coolness upon him, the testicles pulled in as his scrotum tightened. He grabbed Gia before she could depart for another lap. His eyes studied hers.

“Hi,” Harry said.

“Rescue carry,” Nate said.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Just relax,” Gia said as her arms went beneath his armpits.

Harry felt himself being pulled, as Gia kicked beneath him, pulled him across the water. Harry’s hard cock jutted upward out of the water, his balls floated, as she pulled him, turned them around, and pulled him back.

“Do it again,” Tracey said, her eyes on Harry’s foreskin covered glans up in the air.

“Kiss it,” Nate said.

“No,” Tracey said.

“Time to go?” Gia asked.

“Not important,” Harry said.

“You—of course it is,” Gia said, reaching for the edge of the pool.

Harry jumped up to the edge, pushed himself up, squatted, and extended a hand to Gia, pulled her up. He watched the water drip and drop from her, before she grabbed a towel and dried off.

“He’s eager,” Nate said, one of several pairs of eyes seeing Harry’s hard cock, unabashed, jutting outward.

“Good,” Gia said.

Nate laughed.

“Let’s move,” Gia said to Harry.

Harry’s hard erection swayed as he and Gia left the pool.

“I wish they’d let you _onto_ the swim team,” Harry said.

“I could petition to join just to quit school,” Gia said, “You know, instead of missing the tryouts.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry asked, his todger softened.

“What’d you think?” Gia said, “You’ve got the opportunity to finish your education—”

“At the cost of how many necks?” Harry said, “Sorry, it doesn’t work like that, I wish it’d work out too, but it’s over.”

“You’re letting them push you out,” Gia said.

“They’re getting hurt,” Harry said, “I’ve got no right to demand they get injured for my _education_.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just—disgusting,” Gia said, stopping.

“I agree,” Harry said, spreading his arms wide as he gestured, his armpit hair showed as he faced her. “But what must be done isn’t always pretty, this is one of those times.”

Gia sighed as Harry’s soft todger let loose, peed the yellow stream out as he stood there.

“Lets get back so Professor Dumbledore can try, in vain, to talk me out of this,” Harry said.

“You ought to listen,” Gia said.

“And get more people hurt?” Harry said, “I can stop it, by quitting.”

Gia watched Harry’s bare buttocks as they continued walking, making it to 26 Oak St. A voice called out as Harry opened the green front door.

“Harry,” said Professor Lupin as he caught up, the tail of his suit coat came out as he followed them through the door, “I got a rather funny letter after my…I finished my monthly business. It concerned you.”

“So I’d wager,” Harry said.

“Remus!” said Sirius, hanging out near the door toward the dining room.

“Hello old friend,” Professor Lupin said.

“Inside,” Sirius said to Harry.

Harry and Gia went into the dining room, saw the names written onto slips reserving their spots around the table covered with a red and orange autumn foilage themed tablecloth. Professor Dumbledore sat at the end of the table toward the back door. Harry sat at the other end, toward the study, sat forward to let his balls hang over. Gia sat to his right, her breasts hung free. Ron with his bare chest and Hermione with her small tits sat to his left. While Sirius and Professor Lupin sat across from each other, next to Professor Dumbledore.

“I took the liberty of making sure the muggles were preoccupied,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Be sure to thank them for their hospitality.”

Gia nodded. Professor Dumbledore waved his wand, food appeared before them.

“Always his favorite trick,” Professor Lupin said.

“Never underestimate the value of a good meal uniting the worst of enemies,” Professor Dumbledore said.

Sirius took a steak, cut into it. Professor Lupin took the rare steak. Ron grabbed a fair number of the fried chicken drumsticks. Gia tried to load a ham steak onto Harry’s plate, he shook his head, grabbed a goblet of pumpkin juice. Harry dropped a grape in, swirled his goblet, watched the green blob move with the flow.

“I understand a petition was circulated,” Professor Lupin said, “I sympathize, but I concur with the Headmaster that you’re taking the wrong course of action.”

“The others—my being there endangers them,” Harry said.

“It’s clear there are antagonizers, instigators agitating the other students,” Professor Dumbledore said, his blue eyes focused on Harry. “I cannot definitely state that they merely intend to make your life more miserable, or whether the plan is more ambitious, but I am sure they are not your friends, Harry.”

“I’m your godfather, but also a friend to your parents,” Sirius said, “James and Lily would be appalled if you were forced out of Hogwarts.”

“I know you have other considerations,” Professor Lupin said, his eyes went to Gia with her bare nipples visible to all, “But please give this much considerable thought, because once you take it, you won’t be allowed back in, which is why Professor Dumbledore made you take a couple of days to properly think it over.”

“You’re afraid of something more?” Ron asked Professor Dumbledore.

“Yes,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I’m confident your antagonizers are not your friend, that quitting Hogwarts would play right into their plans, that’d it be even more damaging because it’d complicate the efforts to fight against Tom. Quitting could easily condemn us all.”

“You’re trying to _guilt_ me!” Harry snapped.

“Any decision to remain must be voluntary, Harry,” Professor Lupin said, “You’d have to want to stay, and…well, you can always quit at a later time.”

“Given the events, the hazards,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Nobody would hold ill will toward you should you decide to quit, for none of us have to endure your burden. Regardless of your decision, we will support you.”

Professor Dumbledore brought his fork down to the lima beans, worked them onto the silver.

“Hermione plans to continue,” Ron said, his eyes traced Gia’s erect nipples.

Harry snorted.

“It’s a serious decision,” Professor Dumbledore said, “So, that’s why I’ll await your decision tomorrow. In the meanwhile, I think I will try the Shepard pie.”

“I’d still like you to stick around for Saturday’s Quidditch match,” Ron said to Harry.

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled.

“Ron—” Harry started.

“Well, it’d help Gryffindor,” Ron said, “And you made me captain, so of course I’ll worry about the team.”

“Apart from having the Boy–Who–Lived chased out of Hogwarts,” Hermione said, “Why would Harry quitting cause so much trouble?” Hermione asked.

“Is Mr. Potter capable of killing Voldemort?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

Harry dropped his cup, the pumpkin juice spilled, and the grape rolled across the tablecloth.

“You’re trying to just scare me,” Harry said, “He’ll leave me alone if I quit.”

“You’re a fool if you believe that,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Do you know why? Do you want them—” he glanced at the others present, Professor Lupin, Sirius, Hermione, Ron, Gia, before his eyes returned to Harry “—to know?”

Harry shrugged.

“It begins with an overheard prophecy—” Professor Dumbledore started.

“Rubbish!” Hermione said, “Prophecies are just that, rubbish, and shouldn’t be believed!”

“Mind convincing Tom of that?” Professor Dumbledore said, “You’d save your friend a lot of aggravation.”

“A prophecy?” Harry said, “I mean, Professor Trelawney made a couple, but they were bound to happen anyways.”

“A person under Tom’s supervision heard the first part,” Professor Dumbledore said, “As soon as Mr. Riddle heard it, things were set into motion, so to speak, and this was her prophecy.

“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. … Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies … and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not … and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. … The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seven month dies.” [OotP, Ch37]

“While another,” Professor Dumbledore continued, “Mr. Longbottom, fits the prophecy by way of a shared birthday with you — It was Tom, in his fear, who marked Mr. Potter as his equal. In his haste to eradicate the competition, he may have created the equally powerful foe that he desperately fears.”

“A paradox,” Hermione said.

“And whether or not you believe Harry is an equal,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Tom will continue going after Harry here, until one or the other is killed. Regardless of what the current plan is, the eventual conclusion will be the death of Harry, unless we manage to stop him.”

“That was a lot to lay on his shoulders,” Professor Lupin said.

“So, the only certainty is that Harry will cross You–Know–who’s path again,” Ron said, “Right?”

“Yes,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Harry cannot live in life until Tom is eradicated.”

“Our best chance is teaching you, at Hogwarts,” Professor Lupin said, “I mean, I suppose you could try other schools, but you’re not eleven, you’re sixteen, so your odds considering your reputation would be…less than favorable, because they’d inquire to Hogwarts and the Headmaster would be compelled to be honest with the current troubles.”

“We agreed,” Sirius said, “No threats.”

“It’s their reality,” Professor Lupin replied.

“Sorry, but I must return to Hogwarts,” Professor Dumbledore said, as he stood slowly, his hand shook on his cane. “If you’ll excuse me. Mr. Potter, see me tomorrow.”

Professor Dumbledore disapparated.

“I too, must leave,” Professor Lupin said as he stood, “Students are clamoring for their marks, so I have some catching up to do.”

“Yeah,” Harry said.

Professor Lupin stopped next to Harry, the hand went to Harry’s bare shoulder, “Lily would be disappointed.”

Professor Lupin walked, Sirius followed.

“A round?” Sirius asked.

“Not like that,” Professor Lupin said, as they went out the front door.

“Well?” Ron asked Harry.

“You’re looking at me!” Harry stammered.

“You’re the one quitting,” Ron said.

“Lets visit your folks,” Gia said to Hermione.

“I—” Hermione started.

“Your folks, an hour or two,” Gia said, her blue eyes on Hermione’s brown.

Hermione stood up, her carpet hid most, but not all of her clitoris. She and Gia left the house.

“And now it’s just you and me,” Harry said to Ron.

“Well,” Ron said, “You quit—what next? They’re right, they can teach you stuff.”

“Not the important stuff,” Harry said, “I mean, how many ways to poison Voldemort with a blood potion?”

“No,” Ron said, “What’s more important?”

“Even Professor Dumbledore suggested it, but he’s not allowed to teach me because I’m a student,” Harry said, “I could ask Professor Snape for help.”

“What?” Ron asked.

Harry stood, Ron followed, as Harry went up the steps, into Gia’s bedroom. Harry took the package from earlier, opened the note.

Harry

Decent book, study it.

Professor Dumbledore

Harry showed Ron the book, Practical Legilimency and Occlumency .

“It’s Hermione that likes books—” Ron said.

“And she’d have it memorized, cross indexed, and write a crib sheet,” Harry said, “That’s not what I need—regardless of Hogwarts, I need to learn this and I figured you’d like to learn it too. It gets intimate so it’s either you or Professor Snape to practice on. You are the one I trust to learn this with.”

“Then you get to explain to her when she finds out,” Ron said, “They’re not allowed to teach you?”

“No, it’s forbidden,” Harry said.

“Cool,” Ron said, “You can still learn this without quitting.”

“Foe or not,” Harry said, “They’re attacking because of me, being there. How soon until they get Ginny?”

“I…” Ron stopped.

“Finnigan hates me, but he’s right,” Harry said, “Leaving Hogwarts takes the pressure away from them, we’ll figure the next step out, we always have.”

“I sincerely hope you’re right,” Ron said.

* * *

Tina stood in the Great Hall, right after dinner. Ash’s eyes surveyed the slit before him, the narrow crack, the folds of her labia, the clitoris, before he forced his eyes to rise up past her developing breasts, to her lavender eyes focused on him.

“Just what I thought,” Tina said, “Sorry Ash, study session with Easter.”

“We’ll go with you,” Ash said.

“She’s Hufflepuff,” Gale replied.

“She’s got a thing about boys,” Tina said, “You’d just confirm her fears.”

“Oooh,” Buck said.

“Quiet!” Gale snapped.

“You’ve got that detention,” Tina said to Buck.

“Oh, yeah,” Buck said. Buck stood, his loose todger swayed in front of the loose testicles in the smooth scrotum. “See ya.”

Buck left the Great Hall.

“Your place or mine?” Gale asked Ash.

“Neither,” Ash replied.

“Not there?” Gale asked.

“Dunno,” Ash said, “Not right. Let’s go.”

Ash and Gale stood. Ash wasn’t certain, let his feet wander as he left the Great Hall. Ash took a step up the marble stairs before he stopped. Gale followed as Ash went along the corridor. Ash entered Oliver Wood’s office, his feet quiet, heard the thumping as he glanced over the desk.

“It worked as advertised,” said the girl, Katie Bell.

“Yep,” said Oliver Wood, whose bare buttocks rose into the air, “Be sure to thank Fred and George.”

Oliver Wood kept floating upward, his bare back, his ribs, and holding on tight to Katie Bell, also starkers. Katie held onto the long shaft, her back pressed against Oliver’s chest, supported entirely down the middle by Oliver Wood’s long, hard, cock, a cock that stretched four feet and Katie held onto like a broom, her breasts wrapped to either side, her tongue licked the exposed glans.

“Think the moon’s bright enough to try the Quidditch Pitch,” Katie said, before her eyes flickers onto Ash and Gale, “What?”

Katie lost her grip, rolled as she fell. Oliver Wood twisted.

“KNOCK!” Oliver Wood snapped, his face blushed a brilliant red, as he unsuccessfully tried to conceal the very large erection behind the desk, but his brown pubic very visible.

“They’re not exactly covering up,” Katie said, “The first years—?”

“Yeah, it’s them,” Oliver Wood said, “Why you come here?”

“Go ahead, ask,” Gale said to Ash.

“Any way to stop Harry from quitting Hogwarts?” Ash asked.

“Quitting?” Oliver Wood asked.

“Harry Potter wouldn’t quit,” Katie said.

“He’s talking about it,” Ash said.

“I—” Oliver Wood started before he glanced at Katie, pointed at the long erection, “How long is this supposed to last?”

“Where’s the instructions?” Katie asked.

“On the wrapper,” Oliver said.

“I heard that petition was a joke,” Katie said, “Don’t tell me Harry’s taking it seriously.”

“He is,” Ash said, “Harry’s got a fucking conscious, can we change his mind?”

“I…there’s something I might be able to do,” Oliver said, “Still, you need to talk Potter out of it, first.”

“Thought so,” Ash said, “Nevermind.”

Ash left the office.

“You’re nutters,” Gale said.

“Like I could have them talk Harry into changing his mind,” Ash said, “He means a lot to me, to us, to everybody—they just don’t realize it.”

“Your butt…” Gale said.

Ash glanced at Gale’s fast stiffening erection as they went up the stairs; the todger went hard fast.

“You like it,” Ash said, as he shook it.

“You’re teasing me,” Gale said.

They went up the next flight of stairs, walked along the second floor corridor, when Ash went into the Girl’s bathroom.

“You love living dangerously,” Gale said.

“Girls avoid using it,” Ash said, turning to face Gale.

Ash watched Gale’s eyes feast, survey Ash.

“Funny how you’ve grown on me,” Gale said, “See your butt.”

Ash turned around. Gale slapped Ash’s bare buttocks. Gale pulled Ash’s hips backward, and tapped the glans against the crack. Gale’s hands reached further, held Ash’s testicles as the shaft found Ash’s anus.

“Alright?” Gale asked.

“Yeah,” Ash said.

A noise, the bathroom door rattled. Ash moved fast, Gale followed, into the first cubicle. Gale closed the door, before his hands returned to Ash. Ash leaned forward, pressed his outstretched hands against the back wall, gritted his teeth in anticipation.

“Oh, oh, naughty boys,” said Moaning Myrtle.

“Keep going,” Ash said to Gale.

Gale, though, tickled Ash’s testicles, hand felt the shaft stiffen.

“Oh, mind if I play?” Moaning Myrtle asked.

Moaning Myrtle bent over, she slid beneath Ash, presented her rear to Ash. While Ash didn’t watch her, he felt the wave of cool possession as she simulated riding his hard cock at the same time that Gale pushed inward. Ash felt the tickling, the sliding as Myrtle’s fingers curled, stroked, and teased. Ash’s dick felt alive, even as Gale kept thrusting along Ash’s anus. Ash felt the stimulation, both with Gale and with Myrtle. Ash felt the pressure build fast, release as the spasms bore down. Myrtle giggled as Ash’s sticky off–white seed flew out, went across the toilet seat.

“Oh, boys are cute,” Moaning Myrtle said, “Plenty have thought they merely had a wet dream, oblivious.”

“Even Potter?” Gale asked.

“He’s never suspected,” Moaning Myrtle said.

“Oh—oh!” Ash exclaimed, as he pulled forward, forced Gale’s dick to withdraw, turned around, and put his hands on Gale’s shoulders. “Thank you!” Ash leaned over, kissed Gale on the lips as he felt the new sticky mess. Ash glanced down at Gale’s orgasm, commencing, covering Ash’s softening cock in the warm personal lava.

“What?” Gale asked as Ash grabbed tissue to wipe.

“It’s brilliant,” Ash said, “Come.”

Ash pushed, Gale opened the cubicle door. Ash broke out into a run, Gale panted as he followed. Despite the mild pain in the arse, Ash ran, up the stairs, all the flights, to the seventh floor. He entered Gryffindor Tower, and swept his eyes across the Gryffindor Common Room. Ash went over to the red haired girl, the one Ash recognized, Ginny. Her eyes surveyed Ash, standing there.

“Can I help?” Ginny asked.

Ash’s left hand fondled his balls for the half moment it took to gain the courage.

“It’s about Harry,” Ash whispered to her, “I need your help.”


	53. Stay or Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave a comment, it's how I know that people are reading/enjoying the story. 
> 
> P.S. I may get a bit distracted for a short while... new game.

Ron and Hermione landed on Ron’s bed, curtains drawn shut, Wednesday morning. Mutterings came from outside, when the curtains were parted. Ash’s face appeared, glanced at them.

“Hey, when’s Harry coming?” Ash asked.

“He’ll come when he comes,” Ron said, “Has to quit in person.”

“What are you planning?” Hermione asked.

“Just wait and see, or come out,” Ash said.

Ron climbed out, and his eyes took in the small sea of skin with outcroppings of pubic hair. Ash, his friends Buck, Gale, and Tina. Ginny, Colin Creevy, and Dennis Creevy, all starkers.

Thump!

Ash opened the curtain to Harry’s bed, Harry was there, starkers.

“Ash!” Harry snapped.

“Just wait,” Ash said, jar of Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment in his hands, which he quickly painted onto Harry’s penis, balls.

“Ash!” Harry snapped.

“I know you’re feeling—rejected,” Ash said, “These, we’re the ones who’ll support you. To prove it, bang us.”

“What?!” Harry stammered.

“Each one, wants to experience the real Harry Potter,” Ash said.

Harry grabbed his Firebolt, kicked open the window, and jumped out. Ron grabbed his Firebolt, flew it out, and down. Ron chased Harry, pursued, around Hogsmeade, to the Shrieking Shack. Harry sat down, shivered as he leaned back against the faded unpainted shingles. Ron landed, sat next to Harry. Feet close, knees up; Harry’s erection jutted outward from his thighs.

“Ash—nice and all, but he belongs in that stupid fan club—perhaps president,” Harry said, “Lending my dick out without asking me first!”

Ron laughed as the thought occurred to him.

“What’s so funny?” Harry demanded.

“Power he knows not,” Ron said, “Love, gotta bang em all.”

“That’s not funny,” Harry said.

“Ask You–Know–Who to bend over,” Ron said.

“Definitely not funny,” Harry retorted.

“If it solved everything, vanquished him, with a good arse banging,” Ron said, “Would you?”

“No,” Harry said, “There’s got to be another way.”

“He’s a First year, but he had a point,” Ron said, “You do have supporters here.”

“Not enough to make a difference,” Harry said, “If you’ll excuse me—”

“Hagrid?” Ron said, “Maybe help him with—I don’t know, another three headed dog?”

“No,” Harry said, “I love him too, but…it’s time for me to go.”

Harry stood, got onto his Firebolt. Ron followed.

“I’ll meet ya’ at the dormitory,” Ron said, “See them out and you off.”

“You do that,” Harry said.

Ron returned to the dormitory. Hermione was there, next to the sobbing coming from Harry’s bed; the others had already left.

“He’s gone!” Ash cried, “All my fucking fault!”

“Your heart was in the right place,” Hermione said to Ash.

* * *

Harry entered the Headmaster’s Office, starkers. The desk was empty, Fawkes studied Harry.

“Something wrong Potter?” asked the Sorting Hat.

“Yeah, loads of it,” Harry said.

“Mind?” the Sorting Hat asked.

Harry picked it up, placed it on his head. He felt a bit silly, being starkers with just the Sorting Hat on his head.

“Hogwarts no longer living up to your standards?” the Sorting Hat asked.

“It’s become…hollow coming here,” Harry said, “No longer wanted here.”

“There is more to Hogwarts than just students,” the Sorting Hat said, “You have more allies here than you realize.”

“Not every teacher supports me either,” Harry said.

“Beyond the living,” the Sorting Hat said, “Ask a painting, or a ghost. The walls of Hogwarts are strong and are willing to help too.”

Harry sighed, adjusted his balls.

“And you are more talented than you realize,” the Sorting Hat said, “Young, strong, handsome, well hung—you’re the one strutting.”

Harry snorted.

“You’re more at ease like this,” the Sorting Hat said, “Shall I ask the Headmaster to alter the dress code to accommodate you, he would, you know.”

“No,” Harry replied.

“He will not prosecute any related charges,” the Sorting Hat said.

“Are you as much of a pervert as that kid is?” Harry asked.

“You made him,” the Sorting Hat replied.

“Don’t remind me,” Harry said.

“As you’re aware, every person has unique characteristics that make them who they are,” the Sorting Hat said, “Ashland Hurley’s extreme reclusive tendencies would have made him unable to survive if he were injured because he could not seek out medical help when it was required to do so. Even now, you are not experiencing the level of isolation he had imposed on himself—he would not have lasted here, or at any other school. I admit that your therapy was unorthodox, but effective.”

“You know what he tried this morning?” Harry snapped.

“He was trying to return the favor in the way he knew how,” the Sorting Hat said.

“He was about to auction off my services,” Harry said, his hard erection twitched, was ready.

“You need allies,” the Sorting Hat said, “If sharing your orgasm helps persuade, as Mr. Weasley suggested, is that such a bad thing?”

“I…I guess not,” Harry said.

“The bond of the act, it binds,” the Sorting Hat said, “It might not mean they’ll change their mind immediately, but they’re open enough that you’ll persuade them back when the time comes.”

“You’re suggesting that if I quit, I ought to setup a stand in Diagon Alley?” Harry said, “Fuck everybody who wants a piece of me?”

“An option, I suppose,” the Sorting Hat said, “You’d know which ones won’t become Death Eaters.”

“True,” Harry said, “There’s more, isn’t there?”

“Yes,” the Sorting Hat said, “Detail that would…never mind. The Headmaster is clear, your decision to stay must remain voluntary. You must choose to stay, if you so desire.”

“I’ve already made up my mind,” Harry said.

“Are you calling me wrong?” the Sorting Hat asked.

“No,” Harry said.

“You’ve already invested five years here,” the Sorting Hat said, “Continue, and you have two short years. I wouldn’t turn my back on what those years can give you—it’s tough to grasp at your young age, but it’s an advantage that you’d carry with you for the rest of your life. Your friendships, your pursuits, would go a lot smoother with it than without. I suggest you spend the day seeking out your friends, talking with them, ask _them_ if they’re willing to risk you being around them.”

“It’s the others,” Harry said.

“So, you intend to lie down and make things easy on your attackers?” the Sorting Hat asked.

“No,” Harry said.

“Ask your friends,” the Sorting Hat said, “Come back after you’ve done so, and we can talk further. Start with Oliver Wood.”

Harry removed the Sorting Hat, left the office, Firebolt in hand. Harry went down to the ground floor, entered the office. Oliver Wood, who stood in the corner, leaned against the stone wall, as he examined essays.

“I was advised—” Oliver Wood said, his eyes flickered up to Harry, “Never mind. So, I understand things are a bit tough.”

“Yeah,” Harry said.

Oliver Wood came closer. His eyes surveyed Harry, from the jet black hair on the head, down the chest, down the trail from the naval, to the wild pubic hair with the hard erection jutting out.

“Every girl in Hogwarts wants to jump your bones,” Oliver Wood said.

“I’m a boy,” Harry said.

“Like I couldn’t tell,” Oliver Wood said, sarcastically.

“I was starkers when I got chased out of my dormitory,” Harry said.

“Like you really need a reason,” Oliver Wood said, “It’s not the first time you’ve been starkers before another, you’re not flinching away, not hiding in fear, you’re an exhibitionist like those first years.”

“He…got it from me,” Harry said.

“Aw,” Oliver Wood said, “You look good.”

“You’re judging?” Harry asked.

“I’m professional Quidditch,” Oliver Wood said, “Nudity is used, offensively at times, so yes, I’ll compliment where one’s due. I mean it, though your ribs are a bit thin.”

“What about my ribs?” Harry asked.

“Nothing,” Oliver Wood said, “And…” He briefly touched, tickled the fulcrum right beneath Harry’s slit.

Harry felt the spasms, braced himself against the desk, erection over it as the pressure bore down and released. A surge, and his sticky off–white semen pumped out, spread itself across the dark oak wood top.

“I keep the desk clear, just so you can orgasm on it,” Oliver Wood said.

Harry snorted.

“Like I said, professional,” Oliver Wood said, “One gets used to…sexuality in professional.”

“Sounds fun,” Harry said, unsure how casual they were in professional Quidditch — he hadn’t seen any professional play outside of the World Cup.

“Try collecting it,” Oliver Wood said, “Your sperm, it’s valuable.”

“What?” Harry asked.

“Couples where the wizard is infertile,” Oliver Wood said, “Or, a witch who simply wants to get pregnant; or at a premium in the muggle markets because wizard quality tends to be better. Or, used by couples where they’ve had one squib or two already and are desperate to have better stock. And if they knew it was from you—they wouldn’t be able to keep it in stock because the demand would outstrip the supply.”

“Thanks a lot,” Harry grumbled.

“You’d just have to go to Madam Pomfrey,” Oliver Wood said, “She can handle it, or you could go to St. Mungo’s directly yourself—it’s kept confidential if you wish. I’ve made a few deposits into that bank myself.”

“You’re serious?” Harry asked.

“Well, you’re the one showing them off,” Oliver Wood said, glancing at Harry’s hard erection, “Don’t be surprised when they get talked about.”

“I’ll take that under advisement,” Harry said, his cock, still sensitive from the ointment, kept oozing with his orgasm.

“They look good,” Oliver Wood said, “If Katie were here, she’d jump your bones.”

“You just like looking at it,” Harry said.

“Like I said, professional,” Oliver Wood said, “I appreciate the courage it takes to overcome—inhibitions, the confidence that it now imbues on you, something you infected that first year with.”

“Accidentally,” Harry said, “It worked for what we needed to accomplish, and I went with it.”

“At a certain point, you crave the attention,” Oliver Wood said, “Or at least your stiffy does, why hide it?”

“Suppose so,” Harry said.

“Feels good riding a broom sporting a stiffy, right?” Oliver Wood said, “You’ve ever made this mess on one?”

“I…” Harry blushed, the persistent orgasm was doing its work on him.

“As a professional Quidditch player, you simply have to embrace your friends,” Oliver Wood said, “And I’m happy that you’re excited right now, it’s fine.”

“Ta…” Harry said.

“And you’ll likely fly out of this office when we’re done, right?” Oliver Wood asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“Remember the horror of having that broom stripped down to check for jinxes?” Oliver Wood asked.

“Yep,” Harry said, his hard cock still squirting across the wooden desk.

“The ridiculous thought of it being from Sirius Black,” Oliver Wood said, “Fortunately, it’s in working order now, right?”

“Yes,” Harry said.

“So, have you given any more consideration to going professional Quidditch?” Oliver Wood asked.

“No,” Harry asked, “Why?”

“I hear you’re about to be a free agent,” Oliver Wood said, “Though quitting doesn’t look good on the resume.”

“You heard?” Harry stammered.

“A particular first year seemed rather upset at the notion,” Oliver Wood said.

“Ash…” Harry muttered.

“Remember your Nimbus 2000?” Oliver Wood said, “Destroyed by the Whomping Willow?”

“It was the demeantors—” Harry protested.

“I know,” Oliver Wood said, “And you know what I did? I kept playing, even though we were down a Seeker, we didn’t quit, and it was the worst loss in ages.”

“That’s not making me feel good to remember,” Harry said.

“Of all the lessons I thought we’d taught you in Quidditch,” Oliver Wood said, “Don’t quit, don’t surrender victory to your opponent—make them earn it.”

“Battles—muggle battles, they’ll surrender if it’s the best chance at life,” Harry said.

“Does it look like a battle yet?” Oliver Wood said as he leaned over the wooden desk, “There may come a time, but I doubt it’s today.”

“Many killed last month,” Harry said, “People are going to die if I remain.”

“Do you see a knife? Today?” Oliver Wood asked, as he stood back up, hands outstretched.

“No,” Harry replied.

“Tell you what,” Oliver Wood said, “I’m planning a little…outing for you tomorrow.”

“What?” Harry stammered.

“I’m not telling you,” Oliver Wood said, “You may quit, and quitters can’t come.”

“Did Dumbledore put you up to this?” Harry asked.

“No,” Oliver Wood said, “A nameless First Year asked for help, so that’s my deal. Stay, and you can come, with Ron and your girls—it’ll be fun, I swear.”

“I’ve heard that before,” Harry said, “Like Aunt Petunia telling me that I find it fun to mop the floors—no, just kept them from screaming at me.”

“One hint, bring your Firebolts,” Oliver Wood said, “And casually dressed is fine.”

“This isn’t going to change my vote,” Harry said.

“A shame,” Oliver Wood said, “Don’t begrudge me a chance to bribe, okay?” Oliver gave a smile.

“I guess,” Harry said.

“Well, I do have essays to finish,” Oliver Wood said, “I understand Hagrid’s interested in seeing you.”

“I suppose so,” Harry said.

“Let me know by tonight so I can cancel the reservations,” Oliver Wood said.

Harry wondered as he left the office, Firebolt still in hand. He came to the courtyard, swung his leg over it, felt the wooden handle between his buttocks, and took off. He flew down to the familiar hut by the edge of the Forbidden Forest, knocked on the door.

“arry,” Hagrid beamed as he opened the door, “Been wondering.”

Harry entered, noticed Hagrid’s eyes seemed to ignore the drooling coming out of the hard erection, saw Ash and Buck around the table.

“Hi,” Buck said, waved, “Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment is wonderful stuff, or so Ash thinks.”

Harry blushed, as he realized the eleven year old kid was watching his continuing orgasm. Harry sat down, next to the blond haired, brown eyed, boy; Ash to the other side.

“Was explain’ng that I rescued you as a baby,” Hagrid said as he poured a cup of tea, “How you’ll drop by when something’s bothering you. I’ll help you, or you’ll help me.

Harry felt the hand touch his thigh.

“Mind?” Buck asked.

“Fine,” Harry snapped.

“Worth a try,” Buck said.

Buck’s left fingers curled around Harry’s hard cock, gently felt into the ridge, simply touched.

“Lost count the number of times you came to have tea,” Hagrid said, “You, Ron, and Hermione, did it many times.”

Harry wasn’t certain what Ash had taught Buck, however, the results were clear, as the hand gently marched around, reached around the hard shaft, held Harry’s left testicle. Harry’s erection relaxed, and surged a bit harder, pumped out a faster flow of semen, it quelled the reservations he had about Buck’s touching hand.

“Imagine my surprise, I couldn’t believe my ears when I heard,” Hagrid said.

“It upsets everybody,” Buck said to Harry.

Harry glanced at Ash slipping beneath the table, out of sight. A moment later, he felt the tongue on his scrotum, skin of his penis across the face, as his glans snuggled into Ash’s hair.

“Most of all, him,” Buck said, “I admit, it’s weird how he finds friends. Ash’s fiercely loyal when he does.”

“A Gryffindor,” Hagrid said.

Harry wondered if Hagrid realized that Ash was licking Harry’s scrotum, or that Harry’s seed was now seeping into Ash’s hair.

“Maybe his idea was a bit over the top this morning,” Buck said, “Can’t fault him for trying. It took some persuasion from him, but Ash convinced me that you’re not bad, Pot—I mean Harry.”

“Ya remember, help is always at Hogwarts for those who ask,” Hagrid said.

“I remember,” Harry said, remembering the quote from Professor Dumbledore, how true it had been.

Harry giggled as his orgasm continued; Ash’s warm breath coated the ball as he licked, moved up to run along the ridge. Buck’s fingers kept feeling, smeared a bit of sticky semen as it ran on the edge of the foreskin on the glans around the slit. Each wave of ecstasy seeped into him, spread though his body.

“You’re not a threat,” Buck said, “I can feel that.”

“Of course you are,” Harry said.

“Ash taught me, and I accepted,” Buck said, “He did it by persuading you—remember?”

“Of course,” Harry said, he could remember squeezing his dick into Buck’s anus.

“It’s what changed my mind,” Buck said, “He went overboard, but it’s sound, it’s reassuring, right now.”

“It is?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Buck said as he quickly squeezed the shaft, “It helps.”

“Oh,” Harry replied.

Buck moved his hand upward, felt the pubic hair, before hanging around the naval.

“You ain’t a threat to me,” Buck said, “The others—are.”

Harry felt Ash’s tongue cleaning around the tip, working beneath the foreskin.

“Who’d you expect was doing these things?” Hagrid asked Harry.

“I’m safe with you,” Buck said, “Means…means the assailants, they’re Death Eaters. How they look like you—”

“Polyjuice Potion,” Harry said, “They’d need a sample of—” it came to him, at the start of the term, nearly two months earlier, complaining about his hair being tugged on in the Hospital Wing. “—they’ve got it.”

“What’s Polyjuice?” Buck asked.

“Restricted,” Hagrid said, It may work.”

“That’d explain how Ash—” Buck said, “You, him, Gale, do it differently. Don’t ask me to describe them, it’s just…different. Ash recognized it.”

Ash stopped the licking, came back up, sat in the chair with Buck. Buck’s fingers returned to Harry’s pubic hair.

“Yep,” Harry said, “Likely right.”

“Of course he is,” Ash said.

“Well I have third years in a few minutes,” Hagrid said.

Harry stood, Buck and Ash stood. Harry glanced, neither Ash nor Buck were soft, both had their own hard erections, dripping with their semen. Harry realized he was now part of a club, as they left the hut.

“Harry, I’m sorry,” Ash said.

“Remember what the Sorting Hat said about you?” Harry said, “You were alright with me so long as I didn’t abuse it?”

“Sorry,” Ash said, “You—it helps. When I’ve got doubts about you, it shakes it off, your banging gives me confidence. Figured it’d do the same for them, as it did to Buck here.”

“It does?” Harry asked.

“Yep,” Buck said, bending over next to the lake, “Mind?”

“I…” Harry started.

“It’s alright,” Ash said.

Harry stepped close.

“Lemme know when it’s enough,” Harry said.

Harry held Buck’s hips, pushed his hard cock inward, slipped into the anus. Harry felt his balls press against Buck’s, and he began to drill.

“Better,” Buck said, “Keep going.”

Harry drilled more.

“We’re like that,” Ash said to Harry, “Good friends do this. Buck calls you a good friend.”

“You can be friends without banging,” Harry said.

“Good friends do,” Ash said, “You taught me that.”

“Did not,” Harry said.

“Okay, Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment did,” Ash said, “We’re hooked.”

“Obviously,” Harry said. He felt the anus resist, fight the incursion, however, Buck kept quiet as he endured it. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” Buck said.

Harry pulled out, reached down, felt Buck’s hard cock, smaller than Harry’s due to age.

“See?” Ash said, “Buck’s better now.”

“Ta,” Buck said.

Buck limped for a moment as they resumed walking.

“You’re alright,” Buck said, “It’s those impostors, they’re trouble.”

“They could come again, kill you, when I’m not here,” Harry said.

“Then it’s not you doing the killing,” Ash said, “That fifth year girl…um…Ginny, wants you to do her at the soonest opportunity.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Harry said.

“Give it a try,” Ash said, “You can use the allies.”

Harry didn’t want to bang Ginny, however, he had to admit, he’d rather bang her than Death Eaters, she was one notch higher on that list.

“See ya,” Harry said as he swung his leg over the Firebolt, he took off.

Harry took several laps around the Quidditch Pitch, weaved between tall boxed seating, before he went into the field. He felt the breeze against his toes. He bundled himself up, flew through one of the hoops.

“A Quaffle is ten points, how much for a Seeker?”

Harry bared his anus as he landed in the stands, on one of the benches. He recognized the blond haired girl, sitting in her Ravenclaw jumper, gray skirt with purple triangle tails, and bare feet, having seen her from time to time. Luna’s silver gray eyes studied the drips of off–white semen from his slit before they moved up to his face.

“I hear you make me seem sane,” Luna said.

“How so?” Harry asked.

Her eyes studied his hard erection, the orgasm continued, dribbling.

“No reason,” Luna said.

“Side effect,” Harry said.

Her eyes, though, drifted downward, to his toes.

“You go through life, told that shoes are important,” Luna said, “Yet, after forced to by your housemates, you realize they fail to give you the support you need, that you can stand very well on your own two feet. Eventually, you understand the shoes held you back, it’s better to go around and stub your toes.”

Harry snorted.

“Your toes look better than leather,” Luna said, “Not everybody believes you should honor that stupid letter we all signed.”

“If you didn’t mean it, why sign it?” Harry asked.

“Because the staff seem too lazy to do anything else,” Luna said.

“They’re busy,” Harry said.

“Too busy to protect the students?” Luna asked.

“I—” Harry stopped, it was reasonable to expect the staff to do more. What, he wasn’t certain, only that Professor Dumbledore obviously didn’t want Harry to leave, because quitting would be easier than actually expelling.

“I figure You–Know–Who is behind the attacks,” Luna said, “After all, death didn’t stop him before, did it?”

Harry was startled, Luna made sense.

“I thought I knew who you were, now, I’m not so sure,” Luna said, glancing at his balls hanging tightly in the scrotum, “Perhaps we are right, you ought to leave.”

Harry arched his eyebrows.

“It’s clear the Death Eaters want you gone too,” Luna said, “Though I don’t think Seamus is one of them, just a fool who’s let strings be attached to him. What is clear is that you intend to roll up and do their dirty work for them. I don’t know who you really are.”

“They might kill you,” Harry said.

“I might be able stop them,” Luna said.

“Oh,” Harry said.

“How many have asked for you to go?” Luna asked.

“A lot,” Harry said.

“How many have said it’s a mistake to go?” Luna asked.

“A lot,” Harry replied.

“It seems to me that the jury’s still out on this one,” Luna said, “Whose opinion is more valuable?”

“Ta,” Harry said, as he turned and mounted the Firebolt.

“Thank you,” Luna said, her eyes focused on the hard erection along the handle of the broom, one that was still dribbling semen.

Harry pushed off, flew. Harry went around the Whomping Willow, over the lake. Harry did a hard pull upward as his anus began to dilate.

Pfffpt!

Harry felt the sludge drop out, glanced down to see the brown fall into the water below.

“Disgusting,” Ron said, flying up behind, “Keep going.”

Pfffpt!

Harry’s anus kept going, defecating as he flew.

“Suppose you came to try to talk to me?” Harry asked.

“No, fetch you,” Ron said, “Dumbledore seemed convinced you wanted to talk to him.”

“I do,” Harry said, “I…”

Harry landed on the bank, laid under the pad of sunshine. He glanced as Ron, with his red pubic hair, landed, set his Firebolt down next to Harry’s. Ron crawled over Harry. Harry studied those blue eyes, figured he knew what Ron was about to do.

“You are trying to talk me—” Harry started.

“No talk,” Ron said.

Ron leaned down, his lips came to Harry’s, and he kissed. Harry felt his tip nestle into pubic hair as Ron’s glans saddled up with Harry’s balls. Ron lowered himself, his weight on Harry, Ron’s legs wrapped around Harry’s, arms held Harry tight. Ron kept kissing. Harry felt the surge of stickiness, understood that it was Ron’s orgasm as Ron relaxed, let up.

“That’s my best argument for staying,” Ron said as he sat up.

“I do need to see him,” Harry said as he crawled to the edge of the lake. He used the water, cleaned the extra semen off of him. Harry went over to his Firebolt.

“Don’t quit, please don’t,” Ron said.

Harry grabbed his Firebolt, mounted, and took off. He flew to the second floor, approached the Stone Gargoyle.

“Galaxy Minstrels!” Harry said.

The gargoyle came to life, yielded, and Harry got on to the ascending staircase. Up at the top, he entered the Headmaster’s Office.

“Harry,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Have you made up your mind?”

Professor McGonagall stood there next to the desk, her eyes on Harry.

“Tell him the full truth,” the Sorting Hat said.

“If I know you Albus,” Professor McGonagall said, “You’ve told Severus more than you’ve told Mr. Potter, and I view Mr. Potter as being more reliable.”

“Thank you,” Harry said to Professor McGonagall.

“As you are aware, I’ve been afflicted, my time is nearing an end,” Professor Dumbledore said, “While I have been offered a chance at longer life, by being petrified until a cure can be found, I have elected to skip that choice. Instead, I am getting my affairs into order so that I can best serve you, Harry, in preparing for the confrontation that is inevitable.”

“I know,” Harry said, “I appreciate that all, I do.”

“While I believe I could render assistance if you were to follow through, and quit,” Professor Dumbledore said, “It would be more effective for you to remain.”

“I figure that,” Harry said, “It’s just, that I can best protect the students by leaving.”

“Are you sure?” the Sorting Hat asked.

“What do you mean?” Harry replied.

“An assumption that you are making, Potter,” the Sorting Hat said, “That the assaults here would cease if you left. If the assumption is correct, then the outcome is sound. Because if it’s not, what will you do then?”

“I…” Harry hadn’t considered that.

“As Headmaster, if I were confident in the result, your removal _could_ be in the best interests of the students,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I am not convinced. In the short term, it might work, but not in the long term.”

“What do you know?” Harry asked.

“I know that you are being driven out of Hogwarts,” Professor Dumbledore said, “And yet, I fear the campaign would continue.”

“But I’d have left,” Harry said.

“Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall said, “You’d be leaving Hogwarts. What about the rest of the world?”

“I…” Harry hadn’t thought that far.

“You commute into the muggle world on a daily basis,” Professor McGonagall said, “But we’ve kept that a secret—the students may as well think you’re residing in the Shrieking Shack. Once you leave, they know to start looking for you, and start up all over again. How far will you run? Can you ever stop running until you’re trapped in a corner and smothered?”

“You’re underestimating the ambitions of your enemies,” the Sorting Hat said.

“I can think of a couple other reasons I think you leaving would be a bad idea,” Professor McGonagall said, “Namely, the honor you’ve generally bestowed on the house of Gryffindor.”

“Seamus Finnigan started the petition to expel me,” Harry said.

“He is free to draft such a petition,” Professor McGonagall said, “He has as much right to do that as you do for drafting up a petition to expel him.”

“How soon until you find Death Eaters down that muggle street?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“As a student of Hogwarts, you’re authorized to call upon the resources of this school,” Professor McGonagall said, “It gives us cover, reason in the eyes of others, to come to your aid. Whereas, if you quit, it’d expose us.”

“Do you need a moment alone with the Sorting Hat?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore left the office. Harry put on the hat.

“Well, well,” the Sorting Hat, “The Headmaster can be intimidating.”

“Yes,” Harry said.

“Question is, will you quit?” the Sorting Hat asked.

A puff of flame, Fawkes flew out of a spiral of flame beneath his perch, dropped a letter at Harry’s feet. Harry bent over, opened it.

Harry James Potter, son of Lily Evans Potter and James Potter, Headmaster’s Office, Hogwarts.

I’ve been informed that you are doubting your role at Hogwarts. A sage bit of advice, do _not_ succumb to the temptation. For Hogwarts will never give up on you, so long as you do not give up on Hogwarts.

Godric Gryffindor

“Dumbledore…” Harry muttered.

“The Headmaster is but one soldier in an army mobilized against your foes,” the Sorting Hat said, “As Headmaster, he can shield you in ways that he otherwise cannot, and the rumor is, you will need it.”

“He really knows how to put on the pressure,” Harry said.

“Only because he believes you are about to make a terrible mistake,” the Sorting Hat said, “He has known your family since before even your father was born, he owes them a debt, one that he’s repaying through you.”

“Oh,” Harry said.

“To leave would be irrevocable, you could never be readmitted,” the Sorting Hat said, “However, if you stay, you can always change your mind tomorrow.”

“I suppose so,” Harry replied.

“Shall you tell him, or should I?” the Sorting Hat asked.

“Tomorrow,” Harry replied.

“Oi, Harry!” said Oliver Wood, entering the Headmaster’s Office, “I was told you’d be here. About tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here,” Harry said, making his way for the door.

“Good,” Oliver Wood said, “Seven o’clock, by the gargoyle, alright?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, before he put the Sorting Hat onto Oliver Wood’s head, “Enjoy.”

Harry left the Headmaster’s office.

* * *

Gia floated face up on the water, her head on the kickboard, her eyes upward. Above her, bent on both knees near her head, Nate’s testicles hung directly above her. Loose, adorned with strands of blond hair, each one was plump, round, hung next to the circumcised penis. She watched the slit, the welling of the liquid started, before the golden jet poured down. It felt dirty, but worth the price of the piss across her boobs, as Gia watched Nate pee.

“Well?” Nate asked.

He blushed, and she watched his todger rapidly stiffen. Nate leapt off, dove into the water, and began to crawl. A familiar pair of testicles came into view, the wild jet black hair recognizable, as Harry squatted over her head.

“Taking a piss here?” Harry asked.

“Go ahead,” Gia replied.

Each lump, recognizable, as it hung freely above her between his spread legs, with clearance to all sides. She glanced at the retracting foreskin, the slit that began to dump a rich golden yellow. She noticed the other boy behind Harry, Ash, stood nearby.

“You’re in a different mood,” Gia said.

She reached up, pulled on Harry’s hands, he fell into the water.

Splash!

She glanced, Harry kept pissing as he leaned in, kissed her.

“So, what’s tomorrow like?” Gia asked.

“Got something, you might be interested in,” Harry said, “Yeah, going back.”

Harry jumped up, knelt, held her hand as Gia climbed out of the pool. They walked, Ash tagged along.

“Staying in school?” Gia asked.

“For now,” Harry said.

“Him?” Gia asked.

“Wanted to be sure I returned in the morning,” Harry said.

“Yes,” Ash said, “Move along, we need a good peep show.”

“Sure about this?” Gia asked Harry.

“No,” Harry said, “Simply the best option—like being sent to the Dursleys, same thing.”

They kept walking.

* * *

“You succeeded,” Professor McGonagall said late that evening in the Headmaster’s Office.

“It took a lot of convincing,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I’m still not sure about Harry.”

“I cannot say that I wouldn’t choose the same if I were in his shoes,” Professor McGonagall said.

“He must remain, because to leave would merely embolden our adversary,” Professor Dumbledore said, “So much is at stake. However, to stay true to our principles, it must always remain a choice. If I told him everything, he would feel compelled to have no choice.”

“When will we tell him about the other prophecy?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“Never,” Professor Dumbledore said, “You must never tell him.”

“The stakes have never been higher,” Professor McGonagall said.

“Exactly,” Professor Dumbledore said, “If we fail, if Harry fails, the cost is everything. Harry must not fail.”

Professor Dumbledore banished the letter in his hands into the fireplace, it began to burn.


	54. Just a Game

“So, you decided to stick it out after all?” Richard asked during their run Thursday morning, too dark to see how much of the sky was covered in clouds.

“Yeah,” Harry said, his hard cock swinging and his balls bouncing off his thighs, “I can always quit later, if it gets worse.”

“Mum’ll like this,” Richard said, nipples firm, “She sees way too many dropouts on the job.”

They approached 26 Oak St, when Andy came out, starkers. Richard held his circumcised dick, began to piss at her.

“Stop that!” Andy hollered.

Richard ran after her, dick pissing, and she ran. Harry glanced at Richard’s flexing buttocks before he turned to the door and entered. He went up the stairs, into Gia’s bedroom, to Gia starkers. Harry pulled her in tight, her breasts pushed against him, his erection invited itself between her petals, nestled inside, and her long hair touched his hands.

“Good morning,” Gia said, “Didn’t you say seven?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, mindful the clock was already past seven.

Harry summoned his wand, his Portkey, activated it, and they touched it. As Harry felt the jerk behind the naval, he flexed his hips and began to drill.

“Good luck,” Gia said.

Harry got in a few flexes, felt the excitement, the tense buildup. They landed, on his bed.

“Just a moment more,” Harry said, wistfully as he pulled his dick out.

Harry laid his Portkey and wand on his desk, went for the bathroom.

“I’ll be downstairs,” Gia said.

Harry’s dick softened before he sat on the porcelain, felt the bowels move, sighed. He grabbed a wet sponge and wiped. He left the bathroom and went down the stairs, stopped at the balcony that overlooked the common room. Gia was stood in front of a blushing Seamus Finnigan, near the fireplace, near where Ash was laying on the floor, with her hand was on the bulge of the white briefs underwear. His white underwear matched the white T–undershirt tucked into the elastic waist band; his blue jeans were around his ankles.

“Of course you’re pretty,” Finnigan said, a grin on his face as his eyes roved across her bare skin, erect nipples, and shaved pussy.

“Intelligent?” Gia asked.

“Yes,” Finnigan said, “Wardrobe malfunction?” 

Finnigan pulled the front cloth to the side, his hard circumcised cock flopped out, along with wafts of brown pubic hair, and his testicle filled scrotum.

“I’m always curious how boys fit their brains here,” Gia said, her left hand reached, held Finnigan’s shaft, her thumb caressed the glans, touched his slit.

“We try,” Finnigan replied, his face a deep red.

“I need one more thing,” Gia said, her hand massaging the shaft.

“Name it,” Finnigan said, as Harry slipped down the steps to the base of the stairs.

Gia held the cock, stroked it for a moment, until off–white shot out.

“Exonerate Harry,” Gia said to Finnigan’s deeply blushing face.

“Venus trap?!” Finnigan stammered. A lurch in his feet, tried to step backward, instead fell onto his butt, his ejaculating dick still pumping out the oozing off–white semen, while his head landed on Ash laying in front of the fireplace. “Remember, Potter’s rotten.”

“I am?” Harry asked as he came into the common room.

“Yeah, you are,” Finnigan said, standing back up, “Bringing your muggle—”

“She’s the kindest—” Harry started.

“Beast,” Finnigan said.

“I don’t need a wand to recognize slander,” Gia said.

“Come,” Harry said.

“Leave before you hex me,” Finnigan snapped.

Harry glanced at Ash, on his back in front of the fireplace, todger to the side such that the pouch of the testicles were more prominent. They left the common room, walked along the seventh floor corridor.

“Sorry,” Gia said, “After all that he’s done, I thought a little buttering up would help.”

“Thanks for trying,” Harry said, “I’d love for it to go back to the way it was, but he’s been making his choices.”

“Do not give up changing their minds,” Gia said.

“I’ll try, but I’m losing hope with him,” Harry said, “Lets not keep Wood waiting.”

“Good idea,” Ron said, coming up from behind as they descended to the second floor, his stiff todger jutted outward from his red pubic hair.

“I thought you left—” Gia said, as Hermione, also starkers, caught up.

“It started when somebody wanted their hair spray,” Ron said as he carried his Firebolt in his right hand.

“It was more urgent than _that_ ,” Hermione said, her hands bumped her bare hips, as Ron held her left.

“Hurry!” came the shout.

Ahead, Oliver Wood was standing in front of the Stone Gargoyle, his teeth jittering, and his arms twitching beneath his dark blue jumper.

“You won’t be disappointed,” Wood promised.

Harry bolted into a run, stopped just short of colliding with the gargoyle.

“Galaxy Minstrels1!” Harry exclaimed.

The Stone Gargoyle came to life.

“You might be visiting a bit too often,” Wood said as Harry stepped onto the ascending staircase, “And, are you sure about that attire?”

“You said _casual_ ,” Harry replied.

“I didn’t mean _starkers_ ,” Wood said as they went up.

“It’d take at least an hour to go back and change,” Gia said, while giving Harry a wink.

“No denying it’s casual, very casual,” Wood said, “But it’ll have to do because we don’t have that kind of time to spare.”

“Besides, underwear, it chaffs,” Ron said as he flexed his hips, his hard cock swung, “Things need space.”

“Hardly,” Hermione snapped.

They entered the Headmaster’s office.

“Good morning Harry,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Bright and early as I see.”

“Didn’t even bother to dress,” Oliver Wood said.

“In line with the circumstances?” Professor Dumbledore asked. His eyes took their time, as they slowly roved over Harry, with the wild black pubic hair on display, Ron with the glans exposed from the retracted foreskin, Hermione with her carpet covering between her legs, and Gia’s shaved pubic before they returned to Oliver Wood with the blue jeans and jumper. “Am I correct?”

“They’ll fit right in,” Oliver Wood replied.

“Fit in with what?” Harry asked.

Oliver Wood escorted them to the fireplace, stepped in with them, and grabbed a large scoop of Floo Powder. Oliver threw it down into the simmering flames, exploded with green.

“Puddlemere United Country Club!” Oliver Wood exclaimed.

They spun as they went through, into the darkness, fireplace after fireplace went by.

…

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Gia, and Oliver Wood stepped out of a fireplace, into a crowded room. It was a room crowded with mostly young adults, some casually dressed, others skimpily, and even a handful were starkers. Pumpkins and cauldrons lined the walls. Harry, though, pushed through, saw a weirdly bent penis, and stood in front of an enormous green pitch. Not escaping the shadow of the embankment, the goal posts on both ends were darkened with only the top golden hoops shining. Over the blare of the stereo pouring out a mix of Muggle rock and the latest from the Three Inch Wands, Oliver Wood spoke.

“Welcome to the Halloween festivities for Puddlemere United, the team,” Oliver Wood said, “Figured you’d like this, given how it’s been going for you at Hogwarts…”

“Not great,” Harry said, glancing at the wood paneling covered with pennants of blue and white, the team colors of Puddlemere United .

“Hey Wood!” Fred exclaimed as he came running over to them. “Why didn’t you tell—Harry!”

Harry had a split second to see Fred approach, in a tuxedo with a missing midriff, penis and genitals exposed, as if a person cut out a pair of boxers from the clothes and saved the new _underwear_ for another time. Fred wrapped his arms around Harry, pulled in tight, Harry felt the pubic hair, the soft todger press against the stomach. Harry stumbled, fell over from the force of the running bear hug.

“It’s good to see you too,” Oliver Wood said to Fred.

Harry chuckled, laid there on the floor.

“Didn’t you tell him there’s a dress code?” Fred asked.

“He’s dressed casual,” Oliver Wood said, “Like you’re any better?”

Harry glanced upward, at Fred standing there, the crotch fully exposed; hips, buttocks, bollocks, the red pubic hair, the stiffening todger; however, this exposure went from the waist to just below the balls, above was a bit of the belt, and below the fabric trouser legs.

“It’s formal dress,” Fred stated.

“With your todger full out?” Oliver Wood asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Fred said, feigning ignorance, “George said everything was okay.”

Harry, though, studied the wads of flesh, realized how similar they compared to Ron’s.

“Fred looks fine,” Harry said.

“Thank you Harry,” Fred said, “See?”

“He decided to blend in and go starkers,” Oliver Wood said.

Harry glanced at the others. A young black haired wizard in black briefs and a black T–shirt, but with a cut hole in the front of the briefs that allowed a particularly long circumcised erection to jut out; however, it was cleaner than the one hanging out of another wizard’s blue shorts whose foreskin appeared to have a few pieces missing; both stood next to a starkers wizard with the really bent penis. Harry spotted George, with a matching tuxedo, slightly surprised George wasn’t wearing the missing piece from Fred, guessed they both wanted to let their dicks show. Harry wondered a bit about the sanity of this group, but he realized they were likely of similar tastes, so his preference for nudity was going to fit right in.

“Oh, you’re new,” said a girl, a starkers witch with brownish blond hair that went down to her buttocks was starkers, came into Harry’s view, “I’m Amy, Amy Greystok.”

Harry watched her finger teasing the folds of her smooth vagina, she smiled as his erection stiffened.

“Easy going?” Amy asked.

“Why hide the truth?” Harry asked.

“Good point,” Amy said, her eyes focused on his hard cock jutting upward, “I like you already.”

Harry retracted his foreskin, showed his glans to her, a witch with a smile as infectious as Gia’s. He glanced at her wide nipples, watched as they popped out on the large, large for her small frame, and attractive breasts.

“Bit early in the morning to spend that,” Amy said, “Wait for later, I might want to try that.”

“I might do that,” Harry said.

“So, you’ve got a girlfriend?” Amy asked.

“Yep,” Harry said, “She’s here.”

“Oh, I’ll let you be,” Amy replied.

“We’re not like _that_ ,” Harry said, “It’s open, allows for a taste or two.”

“I’ll have to ask her, first,” Amy said.

“Do that, she’s starkers too,” Harry said.

“I think we’ll have fun,” Amy said.

Amy left. Harry relaxed, his dick softened back down to rest in his black pubic hair. Harry read the dates on several pennants, showed that Puddlemere United had several championships decades ago, before a large gap to a few low–bracket consolation wins more recently.

“Hitting up the girls?” Katie Bell asked as she came into Harry’s view, “Hello—”

“No names—not his,” Oliver Wood said, “But enjoy yourself, and talk it up with the others.”

Harry glanced at Katie’s long brown hair, before he got up. He went through the crowd, past one blond haired wizard wearing Quidditch robes showing the union jack, to the table, and grabbed himself a beer. He blended into the crowd, he came to two easy chairs being shared by four people, three guys and a girl.

“So, you’re with Oliver Wood?” asked a thin but tall, blue eyed wizard, with buzz–cut short hair, sitting on the chair, knees up with his feet on the edge of the cushion. “Stop!”

Harry glanced at the hand of the brown haired witch, dressed in a tight gray T–shirt and shorts, teasing the crotch of the wizard’s blue shorts, the tightness of the cloth showed the lumps of both testicles, and the stiffening todger beneath.

“Relax, just tell everybody that he’s—” the witch pointed at Harry’s loose todger dangling there “—is triggering you.”

“I’ve got a girlfriend—you’re not it,” the wizard said.

“I’m Anna,” said the young witch sitting on the same chair as the wizard, “Anna McKenzie.”

“I’m Luke,” the wizard said, “Luke Sedgwick.”

“By the way, he’s mine,” Gia said, coming over, giving Harry a hug, and kissed him on the cheek.

“Girlfriend?” asked a young wizard on a different chair, with light brown hair in a white T–shirt and blue shorts, the shorts had a streak of yellow along the crotch. “I’m Andrew Haslar.”

“I’m Lester, Lester Frogmore,” said the other wizard on Andrew’s chair, dressed in Quidditch Robes styled after the union jack, and blond hair.

“Believe we needed to finish something,” Gia said to Harry.

“Oh, yeah,” Harry said, recalling what they tried to do, understanding she wanted to get started with him, given the temptations they were about to undertake. He spun Gia around, held her back against him, his hands reached around, began to rub her clitoris. Luke’s eyes stayed trained on this.

“In Hogwarts?” Anna asked.

“Yep,” Harry replied his cock stiffened beneath Gia’s crotch.

“With a girlfriend?” Luke said, “That’s good.”

“What makes you think she’s my girlfriend?” Harry asked.

“Good choice to brace,” Anna said, pointed at Luke.

Gia leaned forward, placed her hands onto Luke’s shoulders, her tits dangled in front of his head. Harry swayed his hard cock several times, before he threaded it into her vulva.

“No, no,” Luke said, “Bit early for that, though you’re definitely interested in her.”

Harry pulled out. His fingers, though, returned to rubbing Gia’s clitoris, the folds.

“Coitus Interuptus,” Lester remarked.

“Technique,” Anna said, her eyes focused along the length of Harry’s hard shaft.

“They seem acquainted,” Lester said, “I’d advise waiting to marriage, but that’s just me.”

“I’ve got a girlfriend myself,” Luke said, ran his finger along the silhouette of his personal hardness trapped beneath the cloth.

“They’re doing fine,” Andrew said.

“You’re pissing your shorts again,” Luke remarked.

Harry glanced at the blue shorts with a growing dark spot.

“Am not,” Andrew denied, as a bit of liquid seeped through.

“Not everybody is equally endowed,” Anna said.

“You’d think there’d be a permanent fix for it,” Andrew said, “I shouldn’t be outclassed by my kid brother who’s not even reached puberty!”

“Focus on the bollocks,” Anna said.

“He’s—” Andrew pointed to Harry “—fourteen?”

“Sixteen,” Harry said.

“It’s clear why _he’s_ confident,” Andrew said, pointed to Harry’s loose balls dangling beneath the hard shaft, bollocks hidden from nobody.

“We…we worked on it,” Gia said, before she relaxed.

Harry caught Gia’s weight with his arms, sat as fast as he could, on the armrest next to Luke.

“Looks good,” Luke said, as he used his thumb and stretched pinky to measure the length of Harry’s hard dick, “Yeah, really good.”

“And I’m guessing he would’ve banged all the way, no shame,” Lester said.

“I love her, where’s the shame in it?” Harry replied.

“Is Wood trying to recruit you?” Anna said, “You’ve got the comfort level.”

“Um…” Harry muttered.

“He’s still goes to Hogwarts,” Andrew said.

“On the house team?” Anna asked.

“Yes,” Harry said, now feeling relaxed.

“When’s the next game?” Anna said, “It’d be nice to see something civilized—”

“Gryffindor vs Slytherin,” Harry said, “Most uncivil lineup Hogwarts has to offer.”

“Prospects?” Lester asked.

“Not good,” Harry said, “Gryffindor has a bunch of rookies to break in, so it’ll be rough.”

“Give it your best,” Anna said, “Wouldn’t want Slytherin to win.”

“Oh—oh, you fucking had to!” Luke snapped at Anna.

Eyes drew fast to Luke’s shorts, the hard snake beneath the blue was spasming, off white semen oozed out from the tip.

“I need to—” Luke started to stand.

“So he—” Anna pointed to Harry “—does turn you on, nothing to be ashamed about.”

“He’s got none,” Andrew said, pointed at Harry.

“Please don’t!” Luke exclaimed at Anna. He grabbed a napkin, reached to dab up the mess, when Anna stopped him.

“Better idea,” Anna said as she stood, “You—” she grabbed Harry’s hand “—here!” Harry let her bring him over, sat him sideways onto the seat.

Harry sat, his butt between Luke’s legs, the sticky cloth against his hip.

“You had to!” Luke exclaimed.

“And play with things,” Anna said to Luke, “And you—sweetie, have fun with him. As to you—” her eyes glanced at Gia, “Mind?”

Gia and Anna wandered off, while Harry stayed sitting.

“What’s she going on about?” Harry asked.

“Luke, there, is bisexual,” Andrew said, “Anna saw his attraction in you, likes pranking him.”

“Oh—oh,” Harry said, “I’m fine with it.”

“You are?” Luke asked.

“I don’t know about you, but I like the offer of playing with my balls,” Harry said.

Harry started to understand Ash’s perspective, the fast way to a boy’s soul is through his balls, and Ash was right, Harry needed friends. As the fingers touched Harry’s scrotum, Harry felt Luke’s muscles relaxing.

“That’s so—” Lester said.

“Pleasant,” Harry said.

“So, who are you?” Luke asked.

“I’m…” Harry stalled for a moment, realized he didn’t want to use his real name, when his eyes glanced at Andrew’s blue shorts, another yellow spot forming. “Are you really—?”

“He does it all the time,” Luke said, “Turns him on or something.”

“Self cleaning,” Andrew said, “Makes life a whole lot simpler to not have go to the loo for the number one.”

Harry felt Luke’s fingers feeling up each testicle, understood Luke to be a friend.

…

“That was…interesting,” Anna said to Gia, “There’s no doubting your…passion.”

“It’s the way we roll anymore,” Gia said, “No shame in loving, or showing that love—and, honestly, we’d rather others witness our love. It simply feels better, it is better, having an audience.”

“You had that,” Anna said, “Luke’s a fun tease, but you made it way, way too easy.” Anna grabbed a pair of bubbly champagnes. “Normally we don’t start this early, but it is Halloween, after all. Dressing up can be fun, but it’s more fun dressing down, as you are.”

They sat on a pair of chairs.

“It does make things…easier too,” Gia said, “And forces some honesty, because I’ll know if he finds somebody else interesting.”

“That’s got to have its challenges,” Anna said.

“It does,” Gia said, “But we both believe we’re better off for knowing; I know which friends he’s really passionate for, and I know he’s prone to lust.”

“Sorry I set him up,” Anna said.

“Don’t, he needs experiences,” Gia said, “If I deny him the lust, the fling, that’s an injury to him, just like he allows me a fling or two. We’ll share notes, later. It’s a way of thinking, one that’s building my trust in him, our relationship is stronger because I let him out. Admittedly, he likes nudity too.”

“An open relationship…daring,” Anna said.

“You and Luke—” Gia asked.

“He’s got a girlfriend, mostly for show, but it’s not me, he’s not my type,” Anna said, “He’s fun to tease though.”

“Maybe I’ll tease him later,” Gia said.

“I’d love to see that,” Anna replied.

“Really?”

Gia saw the crotch, smelled a strong stench, as pubic hair, and the sharply bent penis came into view. It was stiff, but not jutting straight, it was bent, doubled back toward his thigh, below a chest of hair.

“And then we have Silvester Shadwell here,” Anna said, “Supposedly a love potion that went horribly wrong, can’t pee without hitting himself. Unsurprisingly, no girlfriend, so he peddles it here at every opportunity. Sorry, you’re a new victim.”

“One little accident—look, it still works,” Silvester said, touching the foreskin covered tip.

Yellow jetted out, covered his right thigh as he peed.

“Can’t it be fixed?” Gia asked.

“And risk having it broken?” Silvester asked.

“Sorry, I’m not interested,” Gia said, her eyes moved over the brown pubic hair, past the hairy chest, to the goatee’d face, “Hopefully you’ll find somebody who is.”

“Judging me by my dick?” Silvester asked.

“Can you even straighten it out?” Gia asked, “Enough to get it inside somebody?”

“It’s nearly time,” Anna said, “Where’s your broom?”

“I…” Silvester turned around, his hairy buttocks flexed as he left.

“Thanks,” Gia said.

“There is a potion that’ll give him temporary relief, but supposedly hurts worse than the ailment,” Anna said, “There’s a muggle healer that promises—plastic…something to fix it, but that’s just a quack.”

“A lot can be done with plastic surgery,” Gia said.

“Still means trusting a muggle,” Anna said, “I like em a lot, but I understand not wanting to trust one to fix _that_.”

“If you pardon me,” Gia said, standing, “I need to find another.”

Gia glanced around, saw Hermione leaning against the wall near a tall plant, and walked over to her.

…

Ron’s erection swayed as he drifted through the crowd, vaguely recognizing some from Quidditch Gazetteer, United Kingdom, 1996—1997 , the players of Puddlemere United inside their country clubhouse. He realized that casual’ meant it, with shorts and nudity being a common theme. Ron saw one, with a white T–shirt and blue shorts, and very bald head betrayed it to be Craig Nesper.

“What are you staring at?” Craig Nesper demanded, aware that Ron’s eyes were on the ragged edge of foreskin on the otherwise circumcised penis.

“Nothing, nothing,” Ron said.

“You must be a Weasley,” said a feminine voice, from Amy, though Ron didn’t yet know her name.

“Um…yeah,” Ron said, as the girl leaned in close, examined his hard erection, her breasts hung loose.

Ron blushed, not from showing off his hard cock, but from being identified by it.

“I would guess the younger brother—Donald?” she said.

“Ron,” Ron said.

“Sorry, Ron, I’m Amy,” Amy said, “Your brothers talk about you.”

“Nothing good, I’d imagine,” Ron said.

“I wouldn’t discount them,” Amy said, coming in close, her erect nipples pushed against his, “May I?” Her hand felt the loose testicles, “Mind if I try?”

“Um…” Ron muttered.

Ron felt the hand work the scrotum, freely, without consideration to the crowd around them. He glanced over, saw Hermione glaring at him.

“Um…” Ron muttered.

Amy, though kissed him on the lips as she worked his shaft. Ron felt the urge build up, the tension build, as her fingers teased the exposed glans. One touch on the fulcrum beneath his slit, and he felt the quenching. Quickly, she withdrew her grip, his orgasm subsided before it had really started, only a slight drop of clear liquid clung to his slit.

“I’ll get you later, when we’re allowed the good stuff,” Amy said, “And when the touching’s supposed to happen.”

Amy stepped back, made no effort to hide herself, touched her clitoris as she quickly examined Ron’s gig line, the trail of hair from his naval back down to the billowing pubic hair.

“Yes, talk to me, later,” Amy said, “I’d definitely like to see how you compare.”

Ron went back to the table near the fireplace, poured himself a single malt whiskey, and sat down on an easy chair. His dick still wanted to, so he gripped his shaft, began to let his foreskin slide with his hand, and he began to wank, took no measures to hide it. Again, he started to work it up, felt the quenching begin, the desire to let go, when his eyes caught sight of it. On a small end table, beside the sofa, was a miniature cell with bars and a small figure contained within. Ron got up, moved closer, to see a raven black haired figure rattling the bars to the cell, a figure that bore a sharp resemblance to Harry, in his Gryffindor school uniform.

“Let me out!” the small Harry figure shouted, “Dumbledore! I haven’t finished my mischief yet, get me out!”

WHAM!

Ron’s fist came down hard and shattered the figurine. Fred’s loose penis flopped as he dashed over.

“You broke it,” Fred said, “You bought it.”

“I’ll tell Harry—” Ron said.

“Don’t you dare—”

Ron grinned.

“Prat,” Fred said, “Do you realize how much we’re making over this stuff? Vaults of Galleons when it settles—”

“What else—?” Ron started to ask.

“Alright!” Fred said, “Whatever we can imagine. Azkaban here, the Gallows, some effigies, that sort of harmless stuff.”

“And you consider yourself his friend?” Ron walked away from Fred, he bolted into the crowd, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Found you!” Harry said, as Ron spun around to face his good friend, “Wood wants to show us around—”

“I lied,” Oliver Wood said, as he came close, “It’s more—there’s always a pickup Quidditch—”

“We’re in!” Ron exclaimed, as he instantly understood the implication, being able to play with _professional_ Quidditch players.

Ron and Harry grabbed their Firebolts, followed Oliver Wood outside, into the warm sunshine, and onto the Quidditch Pitch, joined the gathering crowd. Ron stood there, enjoyed the heat warming up his bare arse as he stood there. In front of two crates, were three wizards wearing white jackets, each with an embroidered title in blue outlined gold lettering, a blue that matched their trousers, and a gold that matched their ties over their white shirts. A thin but tall Coach Darrell Meyers, a man that had seen a number of years was in the middle of the three wizards, stood in the center; everybody else surrounded him in a circle. Silvester, with his bent penis and hairy chest, stood next to Harry.

“Welcome to the season kickoff and Halloween party,” Coach Meyers said, “Given that we have some new faces, guests, and short memories, a quick introduction is in order. I am _COACH_ Darrell Meyers, I helped with getting Kent Quidditch Academy off the ground after the war, and taught there until I joined the  Puddlemere United coaching staff sixteen years ago, and made head coach seven years ago.”

“Adam Gerber,” said the stout wizard to Coach Meyers’ right, “Assistant coach for two years since—”

“You left Chudley, a fine Chaser!” Ron said.

Snickers, Fred glared. Eyes fixed on Ron, with his broad chest, nipples, and stiffening penis.

“It’s best for coaches to have some first hand experience,” Coach Meyers said.

“Leroy Kline,” said the short but slim wizard to Coach Meyers’ left, “Yes, I did time at Appleby Arrows before becoming an assistant coach nine years ago. Onto the players, give your age and position too.” Coach Kline pointed at the average height, slender young wizard.

“Silvester Shadwell, reserve seeker,” said the starkers wizard, “Twenty three.” Harry glanced at the bent todger, wondered what could twist it so much.

Coach Kline pointed to the starkers brown haired Amy with a shaved pussy.

“Amy Greystok,” the witch said, “Reserve Seeker, twenty one.”

Pfffpt!

Some laughter, Amy smiled. She pulled apart her labia, the golden jet shot out, cast a shadow across her leg.

“See, I’ve been practicing,” Amy said, “I can stand and pee too.”

More laughter before Coach Kline pointed again, at Oliver Wood.

“Oliver Wood,” Oliver Wood said, “Keeper, as of today, and twenty.”

Coach Kline continued, pointed at a blond haired, blue eyed wizard.

“Luke Sedgwick,” Luke said, blushing as his blue shorts yielded a bit, the hard erection stayed wrapped beneath the blue, but jutted outward, “Reserve Keeper, twenty two.”

“Stanly Emsworth,” said the black haired wizard with black T–shirt and black briefs with his long and hard circumcised erection jutting outward from a hole in the front, “Chaser.” His eyes went onto Harry and Ron. “What? It’s medical.”

“Andrew Haslar,” said Andrew, in blue shorts and a white T–shirt, with bare feet on the grass, “Chaser, nineteen.”

“Our sympathies to your parents,” said Coach Meyers.

“Wallis Boomere,” said a slightly older brown haired wizard, “Twenty five, Chaser.”

“Katie Bell, seventeen, reserve Chaser,” Katie Bell said, a bit of a white polka dotted light blue panties were showing above the waistline of her blue shorts.

“Interesting educational choice,” Coach Meyers said, “We’ll take talent, however we can get it.”

“Craig Nesper,” said the brown haired blue eyed wizard, bare chested in while wearing blue shorts, tattered ring of the foreskin remnants showed as the soft todger hung out of the leg opening, “Reserve Chaser, twenty six.”

“Anna McKenzie,” said the brown haired witch from earlier, “Reserve Chaser, nineteen.”

“Lester Frogmore,” said the blond haired wizard, with the union jack inspired Quidditch robes, “Beater, twenty four.”

“You look like a bloody Yank!” snapped Silvester Shadwell.

Coach Kline kept pointing.

“Kristi Marshall,” said a witch with heavily grass stained gray Quidditch Robes, “Beater and twenty three.”

“Lets beat around _your_ bush,” Luke said.

“George Weasley,” Fred, in his tuxedo with the exposed crotch of the missing boxer area, “Eighteen, reserve Beater.”

“Fred Weasley,” George said, “Ditto.”

Oliver Wood and Ron snickered.

“As corrected,” Fred said.

Coach Kline’s finger pointed to Harry.

“Skip the name,” Coach Meyers said to Harry.

“Sixteen,” Harry said, “Seeker at Hogwarts.”

“Ron Weasley,” Ron said as he felt the warm sun loosen his balls a bit more, “Sixteen, Keeper and Captain at Hogwarts.”

“Weasley this and Weasley that,” Craig Nesper complained.

“We recruit based on talent,” Coach Meyers said, “As you are now aware, we have promoted Mr. Oliver Wood to Keeper. On his and other recommendations, we welcome George and Fred Weasley as reserve beaters. We also welcome Miss. Katie Bell as reserve Chaser. May your promised worth be shown. Let’s play a nice, casual, game to start off the season right.”

Another wizard, in white shirt and white shorts, came hastily running across the field, waved.

“Oh, and let’s wait,” Coach Meyers said.

“Sorry I’m late,” said the wizard, “I’m Benjamin Notley, the team healer.”

Coach Meyers opened one crate, showed the standard collection of Quidditch balls. He opened the other, brooms, each one a Nimbus 2002.

“Guests, of course,” Coach Meyers said as his eyes fell onto Harry and Ron holding their Firebolts, “Can use their own…at least to begin with, we may have to level the playing field.”

Laughter as Ron grinned.

“Sixteen, so that makes…lets go with eight per team,” Coach Meyers said, “Four chasers.”

A bit more seasoned in the years than the players, but younger than the coaches, Benjamin Notley came over, started to hand out red and blue armbands. He handed reds to both Harry and Ron.

“To get dressed,” Ron said.

“An armband does not make you dressed,” Benjamin Notley replied.

“To fly starkers is to be starkers,” Harry said.

“Guests will be red!” Benjamin Notley said, took the armbands away, and handed them out to everybody else.

“You weren’t planning on spearing it with your stiffy, were you?” Ron asked Harry.

“No,” Harry replied.

“Give you all a couple of moments to know your team,” Coach Meyers said, “To ensure some play time, the snitch will _not_ be released for an hour.”

Fred and George came over, with their matching tuxedos.

“You’re going to wear those?” Ron asked.

“Yes,” Fred said.

“You know,” Harry said, “Starkers, you’d all pass for each other, a little family confusion?”

“We like your thinking,” George said.

“Thanks!” Ron snapped at Harry, as Fred and George quickly stripped off their tuxedos.

“Better for saving them for the party,” Fred said. George did the same.

“Party?” Harry asked.

“How much did Wood _not_ tell you?” George asked.

“A lot, apparently,” Harry said.

“You’ve got your warm–up social,” Fred said, “And the warmup practice—now, and a Halloween Party, later, without the coaches. Wood asked to use our plus ones, didn’t realize it’d be you two.”

“His and mine too,” Katie Bell said, as she tightened up the cord to her shorts, “Who’d I bring otherwise? Mum and Dad who still think I’m at Hogwarts?”

Ron watched the shaved pussy come closer as Amy came up to them, stood there, smiled. Anna also smiled as she came up.

“Got any more brothers?” Amy asked Fred, George, and Ron.

“We count Harry as one,” Fred said.

“And yes, there are others,” Ron said.

“Good,” Amy said as she smiled at Harry and Ron.

“Those are spoken for,” Katie said.

“Their loss,” Amy said.

A tall but young man, a wizard dressed in a blue suit, stood in the middle, held a microphone to his mouth.

“Greetings, I”m Roger Rayner, boyfriend to Kristi,” the man said, “We have two teams, red and blue, let us see who’s victorious.”

Coach Meyers tossed out the Quaffle. Bats in their hands, Fred and George rose fast; all the others flew up fast. Ron and Harry took off on their Firebolts.

…

Hermione was sitting with her bare buttocks on the bench of the small elevated stand; Gia next to her. Both had omnioculars in their hands, ones with the

Puddlemere United insignia all over them. Hermione focused hers on Harry and Ron, she didn’t need to read minds to know what those smiles on their faces meant.

“I ought to warn you,” Hermione said, “They’ll be talking about this for years.”

“Better here than school,” Gia replied.

“It’s—for once, I agree,” Hermione said, “These players seem so accepting.”

“You’re not convinced,” Gia remarked.

“Too easy, just feels too easy,” Hermione said.

“How many know you from school, here?” Gia asked.

“Um…five of them,” Hermione said.

“There’s your answer, they helped before you arrived,” Gia said.

“Hope you’re right,” Hermione said, “Maybe Harry’ll feel better staying in the wizarding world.”

“He can’t abandon it,” Gia said, “Ebb and flow, sure, but not leave it, though he’d like to.”

“He’s feeling expelled,” Hermione said, “Maybe this is good, help him feel otherwise.”

Hermione focused her view on a pair of balls dangling beneath a hard erection, resting on the handle of a Nimbus 2002.

…

“Hey! Hey!” Harry shouted as he watched Luke rip off the shorts from Katie Bell. Her white panties with blue polka dots matched the bra on her.

“It’s legal,” Fred said, soaring past, “And tell Hermione she can keep watching my nards.”

“She—yours look like his,” Harry said.

“I’m offended!” Fred said, taking off.

Harry, like Silvester Shadwell with the misshapen hook of a hard dick, loitered above the field, watching, waiting as the snitch remained locked in the sleeve in the box. Luke, had the Quaffle in hand, raced toward the goals; Ron eyed this, readied himself, when Kristi flew by. Even Harry found his eyes detracted, as her Quidditch robes were pulled up, the buttocks exposed near Ron, as Kristi’s anus quickly dilated and expelled her brown sludge; a long turd dropped from Kristi. As Ron’s eyes focused on that, Luke flew past, threw the Quaffle in.

“Another score by the blue team!” Rayner announced.

“Her favorite trick,” Silvester said to Harry.

Katie rebounded with the Quaffle, flew toward the blue goals, guarded by Oliver Wood. Faster than fast, Oliver Wood’s trousers were unfastened, he brought out his circumcised stiffening dick.

“Nice TRY!” Katie shouted as she threw into the goal, ramming Oliver Wood at the same time.

Oliver Wood fell off his broom, hit the ground. Harry glanced over at the stream pouring down Silvester’s leg as his dick pissed, he smelled the ripeness Silverster’s thigh had developed from this.

“How’d it end up like that?” Harry asked.

“It was straight, once,” Silvester said, grabbing the bent hard shaft, “Beware the love potion gone horribly wrong. I even went to the healer—nope. But can you get those girls to pay attention to my balls?”

“It’s got to be able to go in,” said Amy, coming up, her eyes turned to Harry, “Well, we can use your help until the Snitch gets released. Here, see Wallis, he’d get nervous—I’ll give you a hand.” Amy drew a wand out of the bristles of her broom, aimed it at Harry. “ _Assidere_!”

Harry felt the sudden urge, the pressure, as he saw Wallis, in the proper Quidditch Robes, pushing toward Ron. Harry went down as fast as he could, pulled up in front of Wallis as the pressure yielded. Harry’s bare anus bared at Wallis as the control failed.

Pfffpt!

Harry felt the relief, smelled it, as his sludge moved, he defecated, while still flying, as Wallis’ eyes watched Harry’s logs drop.

“Ta,” Amy said, snatching the Quaffle from Wallis, and she flew back toward Oliver.

“A shitty backup,” Ron said.

“Her idea,” Harry replied as he returned to a level flight.

Both Fred and George spun around, bent, mooned Oliver as Amy threw in the Quaffle.

“Score for red!” Rayner shouted.

Quickly, Harry was understanding what the _dirty_ part of Quidditch meant, using every, single, asset of his, while understanding his opponent. Katie removed her bra as she approached Oliver, grabbed the Quaffle from him. Luke pursued Katie, his fingers reached for her polka dotted panties. Harry flew his Firebolt, as fast as he could, turned as fast right in front of Luke, and Luke collided right into Harry’s hard cock. It hit hard enough that Harry began to piss, his stream soaked onto the cloth of Luke’s sweat stained white shirt.

“You’re a fast study,” Luke said, pulling back, his eyes studied as Harry kept pissing, for a moment. Luke kissed Harry’s shaft, returned to flying after Katie.

Harry pursued Luke.

Pfffpt!

Harry watched the blue shorts bulge out, the brown seeped into the cloth around the anus. Harry knew what he’d see, but still snatched the elastic waistband, and pulled. Dirty, brown, smeared shit tumbled out.

“Ha!” Luke snapped and rolled, displayed the defecating butt, before his fingers snagged Katie’s panties. He grabbed the Quaffle from her as she was starkers on the broom.

Harry stared, for a moment, he’d seen Katie plenty on the Quidditch pitch, he’d seen girls starkers, but this was Katie, and his eyes felt compelled to stare at the freshly exposed buttocks, the tight trail of trimmed pubic hair to either side of her vulva.

“I’ve got this,” Amy shouted as she reached Luke, Anna next to her. Amy grabbed the Quaffle while Anna pulled the shorts, showed Luke’s full dirtied butt. Amy brought the Quaffle to Oliver, who was now starkers, with a shaved pubic area, and his hard erection.

“Gotchya,” Oliver Wood said as he grabbed the Quaffle, “Hey!”

Two Bludgers converged onto Oliver Wood, both Fred and George smiled with bats in their hands. Oliver Wood dropped fast to avoid the collision, while Craig Nesper flew in, bare chested in his blue shorts, todger exposed, grabbed the Quaffle, pulled around, and dropped it into the goal.

“Another Red score!” Rayner exclaimed.

…

“I have the feeling this wouldn’t fly at Hogwarts,” Gia said as she watched the yellow drizzle from Ron, while Ron intercepted the Quaffle, denying the goal to the Blue team.

“Nope,” Hermione said, “Using their entire body as an offensive weapon.”

Gia turned the omnioculars to Harry, the wide grin on his face and sporting his hard erection.

“But this is definitely better,” Gia said, “Accepting themselves for who they are.” She glanced at Andrew’s yellow saturated briefs. “Regardless of their perversion.”

“That’s the one who likes to piss his shorts?” Hermione asked.

“Yep,” Gia said, “You go out, be everything you are, full heart—I get the feeling Harry’s not doing that at school.”

“What’d you mean?” Hermione asked.

“Maybe he’s been beaten just a bit too much, more of giving up there,” Gia said.

“It’s been a lot,” Hermione said, “Can’t really blame him.”

“That _is_ pretty big,” Gia said, glancing at Stanly Emsworth’s hard cock as Amy ripped the black briefs away, “How long is that thing?”

“You must be with the new players,” said Benjamin Notley, coming over to them. “Just over a foot.”

“You mean Harry and Ron?” Hermione asked.

“Niffler fever,” Notley said, “I was interning with Madam Pomfrey when he came down with it, and that was a rare side effect to the cure, a permanent and hypersensitive stiffy that even baffled St. Mungo’s. Even circumcision didn’t alleviate the condition, so, he spent the last several years at Hogwarts with that on permanent display because covering it up puts him in excruciating pain.”

Gia watched Ron duck as Stanly began to ejaculate as he tossed the Quaffle.

“Score for blue!” Rayner announced.

“Overall, despite a sticky point or two,” Notley said, “They seem comfortable, you two do too.”

“You mean going starkers?” Hermione said, “It started as a prank—and it, well, stuck.”

“We tried it privately in the spring,” Gia said, “But yeah, the prank is when it really started, and, well, I’d rather be starkers, truth be told, as he does too. Sure, they were super sensitive, as guys are, and Hermione too, but the positives outweigh the negatives.”

“So, these games are always like this?” Hermione asked.

Gia had her omnioculars on Kristi Marshall, nearly starkers with just a brassiere covering her, dropping a turd from her butt.

“Puddlemere United is perhaps the most liberally minded of the clubs,” Notley said, “So, this style is not only tolerated, but encouraged. Sure, hexes and curses also happen, but matches will devolve to this level too. While the players are required to start off in their robes, a common ploy is to jinx them off at just the wrong moment. Puddlemere United players, doesn’t phase them, keep on going. Falmouth has lost a match or two over it. It even emboldens new strategies, take Kristi there, frequently goes pantless beneath the robes, so she’ll relieve herself, midflight—that’s distracted a fair number to her advantage. Kristi loves doing it, so you’ll see her chowing up a special fiber before matches, to ensure she’s…putting out.”

“That’s disgusting,” Hermione said.

“It’s _professional_ Quidditch,” Notley said, “There is some talk about some adult matches too, these players would be a fit for that, but that’s a debate for another time.”

“Adult?” Gia said, “You mean—?”

“Lets just say … more aggressive tactics,” Notley said, “Leave it at that.”

Gia trained her omnioculars onto Harry, his loose testicles dangled, rested against the handle of his broom, bathed in the sunshine.

…

Harry felt the heat seeping in, loosening his testicles looser than he’s had them ever before, the scrotum really let them down beneath his hard erection. However, he saw the bludger fast approaching Kristi, bat in her hand, eyes focused toward Ron. Harry leaned forward, dove, pulled to stop right in front of her, butt elevated, and he leaned over; he watched her blue eyes beneath the blond hair eye his loose wads as the Bludger flew past them. She reached out, grabbed his sack.

“Hey!” Harry snapped.

“You’re offered them!” Kristi replied, still holding on.

Harry realized he had one choice, not wanting to strike her, focused.

Pfffpt!

Understood her to be inches away, watching in full detail, as his anus dilated, and he began to take his dump, partially expelled a log of brown.

“Pass for your first offense,” Kristi said as she released her grip on his balls, “I’ll collect in full at the party.”

Harry took the chance, flew away, relaxed to leave the turd clinging to him.

…

“They are going to need a shower,” Hermione said, as she saw Harry flying with a partially passed turd finishing its descent and falling to the grass below.

“And the ground keepers wonder why they don’t need to fertilize the lawn,” Notley said.

“Nesper!” Gia snapped.

Hermione trained her omnioculars, saw the blue shorts splitting, a badly scratched circumcised dick flopped to a loose position.

“What happened?” Hermione asked.

“He wouldn’t say,” Notley said, “Coaches surmise it was a fight with his ex–girlfriend, she apparently started the circumcision, I merely had to tidy up because the foreskin couldn’t be saved.”

“Oh,” Hermione said, “I merely thought it was typically done to infants.”

“That’s still the primary way,” Notley said, “Occasionally, it’s done medically too, when required, like any amputation.”

“Ought to be outlawed, at least on babies,” Gia said, “I’ve had so much fun with Harry’s. Sure, things still work without it, but I can do much, much, more with it.”

“Fortunately I’ve convinced Madam Pomfrey of that too, so she’s stopped peddling it,” Notley said, “But, it’s a tradition that ought to die.”

Hermione watched Andrew’s blue shorts being dissolved by the yellow stain.

“Weird,” Hermione said, “Pee shouldn’t destroy—”

“There’s a jinx to make it caustic,” Notley said, “There’s an unspoken mantra that to end the match still dressed means you weren’t trying hard enough.”

Hermione snorted.

“He’s nothing but—” Gia started.

“Not everybody’s blessed with large assets,” Notley said.

Hermione could barely make out the nub of the penis, however, the balls seemingly were making up for it and were larger than the others.

“They are enjoying themselves,” Gia said, watched Ron tease his foreskin to stay hard, “We’ll have to thank Oliver Wood for arranging this—”

“Wood arranged this?” Notley said, “I thought it was a favor to Dumbledore—”

“Don’t tell Harry _that_ ,” Hermione said.

“Like Coach Meyers would say _no_ to our biggest fan,” Notley said, “Still, I’ve known Darrell for long enough to know he makes up his own mind. He’ll open the door for somebody on recommendations, but in the end, it’s up to that person’s own talent.”

“How much talent do they have?” Gia asked, her omnioculars focused onto Ron, as he kept near the goal and easier to track. Ron’s firm erection began to take a piss, a golden stream that hit Luke approaching with the Quaffle.

“They’re definitely holding their own—that’s my opinion,” Notley said, “Well, nice talking with you ladies, need to get back down there.” Notley stood and left.

“I do need to get back to my studies,” Hermione said.

“Really?” Gia said, “I definitely can watch this all day.” Her fingers rubbed her clitoris as she watched Luke return the golden jet, pissed at Ron; even with the urine to the face, Ron kept grinning.

“Of course _you_ do,” Hermione said.

Gia glanced at Hermione’s omnioculars, paired them up, saw as Hermione saw. Amy, flying close, rubbing up against Ron, her nipples swiped along his skin, and he smiled a bit more, his eyes paid attention to Amy, tracked her eye candy. Hermione sighed, groaned.

“Remember Harry’s point, in the beginning?” Gia paused as she felt the bearing down, the orgasm pass through. “It’s what they’re trying to do here, accept yourself for who you are, and not be ashamed for it. For guys, it’s whether its intact or circumcised, whether it’s straight and long or beat up like hell. For us girls, it’s the size of our tits, or whether you prefer a rug or not. It’s what I notice at the pool, when Nate started swimming starkers, exposing himself, opening himself up to judgment, he was nervous at first, but now his confidence is high. Fortunately, Harry and Ron have a head start.”

Hermione glanced at the long turd that Ron was casually letting drop as he caught the Quaffle, up on his knees on the broom, the hard erection jutted outward, but his focus was on handing it over to Amy, who kissed the cock before racing toward the other end. Though his eyes remained focused, Hermione saw him exhale a sigh of relief as his stool released from his anus and dropped.

“There’s more than just Ron’s antics, isn’t there?” Gia said, “What _are_ you thinking about?”

“Dumbledore,” Hermione said, “I don’t doubt Harry, I think Oliver Wood was genuine in thinking this was his idea.”

“Maybe it was,” Gia said, “From what I’ve seen, your Headmaster takes his cues from those around, because he doesn’t want to order anybody around. I mean, don’t you think Wood wanted to have Harry show up?”

“He led the Gryffindor House team when Harry started,” Hermione said.

“I doubt your Headmaster would stop this,” Gia said.

“Given Harry’s mood this week, he’d whole heartedly endorse it,” Hermione said, “With Dumbledore, there’s always something else in play.”

“Ultimate Quidditch?” Gia asked.

“Perhaps,” Hermione replied.

…

Harry was loitering high above, fourteen others, all starkers, were racing below, only Silvester Shadwell, the Seeker for the Blue Team, loitered nearby. Coach Meyers went out to the box, reached to undo the strap of the Golden Snitch.

“And you need to wait a minute for the Snitch to properly hide,” Silvester Shadwell said, flying nearby.

Harry blinked for several moments, realized this was the first Quidditch match since he had gotten the contacts, and he could clearly see the snitch being released, flying away, much better than when he had his glasses. He straddled his broom, butt into the air, let his balls hang loose, his hard cock steadied in the light breeze as it had nowhere to go; Katie glanced a few times, smiled at him. Here, unlike running, or anywhere else, here his dick felt at home, where the smiles made it worthwhile, eyes that may or may not notice his slit moistening up, just a bit, in anticipation of becoming the center of attention.

Harry decided to gamble, and he pushed his handle down, and he dove fast; wind blew across his cock, more sensual than a blow job, as he practically fell. He glanced between his legs, his slit bared, blotting out Silvester’s face, however, he could tell that his opponent pursued—he had yet to see the Snitch. Harry dove faster, waited until the last moment, and pulled the Wronski Feint, pulled upward, his legs on the broom, his scrotum hit the blades of grass as Silvester Shadwell tumbled against the ground. Dirt on his face, Silvester mounted his Nimbus 2002, his bent penis pissing, and flew. As Harry sliced through the chasers, a Bludger came Harry’s way; he did the Sloth Grip Roll and ducked the Bludger; however, Andrew Haslar got the sharp reminder to the left shoulder.

Harry glanced at Silvester Shadwell, in pursuit, and he saw it, Silvester was headed for the Snitch. Harry accelerated, took full advantage of the _‘hundred fifty miles per hour in ten seconds’_ of the Firebolt, along the blades of grass. Shadwell was in arms reach of the Snitch, his bent penis twitching, as Harry outstretched hand grasped it, his fingers closed around the Golden Snitch. Harry relaxed as he fell, landed his back, held the Golden Snitch up.

“Red team wins!” Rayner announced.

Harry remained there, laying on his back, snitch in his hand, studying the faces of the Puddlemere United players above him. He relaxed as he felt the spasms start, his hard cock seeking some attention. He watched the smile creep across Amy’s face as the first salvo launched, straight up; his semen flew upward, attracted the eyes fast. Harry took no effort to stop it, he let his dick express itself as more salvos fired upward. They all watched, all saw his statue, glistening from his cascading semen in the sun, keep oozing out. He had just won the match, among _professional_ players, he felt better than he had in a long time. His public orgasm, the one creating puddles of stickiness throughout his pubic hair, was doing just fine.

Luke came into view, hard erection beneath the buzzed blond pubic hair loomed above Harry as he looked down.

“Another game?” Luke’s armpit hair showed as he extended his hand downward to Harry’s.

“Sure,” Harry replied as he grabbed the hand, used it to pull himself back up.

Harry’s softening dick covered with semen, he mounted his Firebolt.

…

Ron knew his cock enjoyed the attention, staying hard. Amy loitered nearby, watched his glans as he forced himself to piss despite being hard, and she smiled as his golden jet poured out. Ron stayed standing, waiting for the Quaffle to be released, realized it was the best time to relieve himself, to avoid soaking the handle to his Firebolt. Amy, with her long hair drifting down to her hips, simply curled her fingers around his cock, felt into the urethrae as his urine flowed.

“I can work with this,” Amy said, her fingers touched the slit as the stream petered out.

“You can?” Ron asked.

“He’s sixteen!” Luke snapped.

“That’s old enough,” Amy said, before she studied Ron’s blue eyes, “Do you consent?”

“Um…” Ron started.

“He’s our _brother_!” Fred stammered.

“Should’ve brought him ages ago,” Amy said, her fingers felt Ron’s loose testicles, worked through several knots in Ron’s pubic hair. Her nipples pressed into Ron’s chest while her hand moved to hold the balls, she gave Ron a quick kiss to the cheek. “See me later, at the party, I’m curious about you.”

“Are you done?” Coach Meyers asked.

“Yes, yes,” Ron stated.

Ron mounted his Firebolt, flew back up, and Coach Meyers tossed the Quaffle up into the air. Ron’s eyes followed Amy until she loitered near Harry, teased those pair of rather loose wads hanging between the legs. Ron watched the twitching in Harry’s eyes, the grin, and knew that Harry was enjoying the play too, from a girl who loved to flirt.

“RON!” came Fred’s shout.

Ron caught a glimpse of it, as the starkers Luke Sedgwick headed for the goal. Ron flew up fast, until a bare arse flew in front of him. Kristi Marshall’s anus dilated, began to pass sludge.

Pfffpt!

Ron understood the trap, brought his eyes back to Luke, pursued. Luke rolled, his head collided with Ron’s hard cock.

“You’re horny!” Luke said.

Ron threw his weight over, let his hard cock rub against Luke as the tackle proceeded, and both fell to the grass, Quaffle in Ron’s hands. Ron threw the Quaffle to Katie before he stood up.

“That’s dirty,” Luke stated as Ron flew off.

Ron understood Quidditch, and appreciated the comment from a _professional_ player as he loitered in front of the goals.

* * *

1 For the non–British, to quote “Individual chocolate discs in a crispy galaxy chocolate shell. Gorgeous!”  



	55. Hogwarts Halloween

Ash felt the heat of the flames that Halloween morning, as he laid on his back on the floor next to the fireplace of the Gryffindor Common Room, his knees up with his legs partially spread, his crotch aimed toward the fire. Ash didn’t have to feel to know it, that his balls were loose, but still, he felt them up, the warmth seeped into his fingers.

Pfffpt!

A moment later, a puff of flame as the fire consumed his gas.

“Six years and all we had to do was ask,” Seamus Finnigan said as he reached for a sausage. A tinge of arm pit hair was visible up the sleeve of his white T–shirt style undershirt, one that was tucked inside of his blue denim trousers.

“It’s what _they_ did,” Neville Longbottom said, another of the six around the table.

“It’s not a school day,” Dean Thomas said, as he grabbed a sausage, “God, I love that about Halloween, always treated as a Saturday.”

Ernie Macmillan nodded, worked on his cauldron cakes. Finch–Fletchley grabbed a slice of cantaloupe, ate it.

“Mum always said fruit first,” Finch–Fletchley said.

“That’s one of those nudist first years?” Hopkins asked.

“Yeah,” Finnigan said, “Goes around starkers, and the teachers are fine with it. He’s the quiet one, harmless.”

Ash appreciated the comment, it was nice to let things dangle. While Ash wondered if he’ll still be starkers come winter, for the meanwhile, it simply felt better.

Hoot

An owl dropped a letter into Hopkins’ hands.

“Well?” Finch–Fletchley asked.

“Another one from my great Uncle Stan,” Hopkins said, “He promised a Halloween tale.”

“Well, lets hear it,” Macmillan said.

“Oh, this is good,” Hopkins said, skimming the roll of parchment, “Good…that’s…I think that’s Professor McGonagall.”

“What about her?” Neville Longbottom asked.

A flick of white among the stone, Ash saw the tits first, as Gia came down the spiral steps, starkers into the common room. Her eyes focused onto Ash. Ash teased his foreskin, and she watched his flesh stiffen, until the hardness jutted upward. She smiled.

“Hello,” Finnigan said, as he stood up.

“That’s…that’s his _girlfriend_ ,” Thomas said.

“Must give Potter credit,” Finnigan said, “He sure knows how to pick ‘em.”

Ash watched Gia grin as she studied Finnigan, standing in a white T–shirt, trousers about his waist. Finnigan blushed. Gia took several steps closer, until her nipples were a foot from the ones protruding through Finnigan’s undershirt.

“Guess who’s going to need new undies?” Thomas asked.

Hopkins laughed.

“I’ve seen you before,” Gia said.

“Seamus,” Finnigan said.

“Well, Seamus,” Gia said, “Good morning to you.”

“Yeah,” Finnigan said, his eyes focused on her fingers tracing the folds to her shaven vulva, “It’s definitely a good morning, Happy Halloween.”

“Are you clean?” Gia asked.

“Um…I took a shower,” Finnigan said.

“Show her your undies!” Finch–Fletchley said.

“Sure,” Gia said.

“Alright,” Finnigan said as he dropped his trousers to his ankles.

Ash could only see the white brief covered butt, however, enough to know that Finnigan had a stiffy beneath it.

“Hmph,” Gia said, “I think we can work with this, what do you think of me?”

Ash saw the movement on the overlook above, Harry, starkers with his rich pubic hair, watched as Gia stepped forward, put her hand onto Finnigan’s crotch.

“If there’s ever a reason for clean undies,” Finch–Fletchley said, “This is it.”

“He’s definitely excited,” Macmillan remarked.

“Of course you’re pretty,” Finnigan said.

“Intelligent?” Gia asked.

“Yes,” Finnigan said, “Wardrobe malfunction?”

Ash saw the cloth of the briefs move, the scrotum dropped out, along with the hard erection jutting toward her. Ash saw her fingers reach around the shaft as she stepped closer, her thumb teased the head of the circumcised hard cock.

“I’m always curious how boys fit their brains here,” Gia said.

“We try,” Finnigan replied.

“I need one more thing,” Gia said. Ash watched her hand vigorously massage the shaft.

“Name it,” Finnigan said, as Harry slipped down the steps to the base of the stairs.

Gia held the cock, stroked it for a moment, until beads of off–white shot out, hit the floor.

“Exonerate Harry,” Gia said.

“Venus trap?!” Finnigan stammered. A lurch in his feet, tried to step backward, instead fell onto his butt, his ejaculating dick still pumping out the oozing, as the hairy head hit Ash’s stomach. “Remember, Potter’s rotten.”

“I am?” Harry asked as he came into the common room.

“Yeah, you are,” Finnigan said, standing back up, “Bringing your muggle—”

“She’s the kindest—” Harry started.

“Beast,” Finnigan said.

“I don’t need a wand to recognize slander,” Gia said.

“Come,” Harry said.

“Leave before you hex me,” Finnigan snapped.

Ash saw Harry’s bottle green eyes flicker over to him, for a moment. Harry and Gia left the common room.

“Good thing we saw the _whole_ thing,” Macmillan said as Finnigan stepped out of his trousers, “Otherwise we’d think you were wanking for a first year.”

“Hey,” Finnigan said, his deeply blushed face turned toward Ash, “Sorry about that.”

Ash decided to remain quiet.

“Do I have to?” Finnigan asked while his stiffy kept softening, a bit of drizzle clung to his slit.

Ash nodded.

Finnigan knelt next to Ash, leaned over, let Ash’s hard dock touch the cheek as he kissed Ash’s scrotum.

“Ta,” Ash said as Hopkins laughed.

“You’re cozy,” Finnigan said, before he stood back up, held the dangling balls.

“So, we’re doing this?” Finch–Fletchley asked.

“Yeah, it’s tradition,” Hopkins said, “Well, was—didn’t happen to us—” his eyes flicked at Ash “—can we go somewhere else to talk about it?”

“Upstairs,” Finnigan said, “I need to clean.”

“Well,” Thomas said, “Trick or Treat, it’s Halloween—love not having school.”

“Trick or treat indeed,” Finnigan said, before he shouted to Ash, “Barely touched, feel free to help yourself to what’s left here.”

Finnigan led the charge, as the six sixth years went up the stairs to the sixth year boys’ dormitory. Ash thought about the table, however, the coals of the fireplace were doing a good job keeping his balls nice and warm.

“Hey,” came the voice as the figure loomed over Ash’s head. Above him, Ash saw the balls, the soft intact penis hang, blocked out the view to the face. However, knew these, recognized the frittered edge of the foreskin, the balls that were pulled upward by the scrotum, that Buck was a bit chilled. “Happy Halloween.”

“Happy Halloween to you too,” Ash said, his mind wondered how much he should play with those tempting fruits above him. He’d seen enough of the slit to know that Buck had just come from the lavatory.

“Get Gale?” Buck said.

“Sure, go ahead,” Ash said, “I’m sticking here.”

“I see both reasons,” Buck said, “Trying to see how low they’ll go without roasting them?”

“It’s comfortable here,” Ash said.

“I’ll get him,” Buck said.

“Do that,” Ash replied.

Buck left. Ash watched the long flowing red hair as Ginny came over, stood next to the fireplace. She glanced down at Ash, for a moment, before returning her gaze into the fire. Her knuckles gripped the sleeves of her jumper, a tear came down her cheek.

“Found it!” came the voice. Ash glanced over, it was an obvious mask of Harry Potter. Colin removed his mask as he came in to kiss Ginny.

“How can boys tolerate—it’s freezing in here,” Ginny said, soaking in the warmth of the fireplace.

Maybe Ash had just gotten used to it, seemed to stop bothering him, like not caring about people seeing the stiffy he was currently sporting. Colin seemed similarly comfortable in his blue denim trousers, his red T–shirt, and camera slung around his shoulder. Colin hugged Ginny from behind, breathed across her cheek.

“While he was seen going starkers,” Ginny said, “Doubt we’ll find him in Hogsmeade.”

“Harry can’t just _vanish_ ,” Colin said, “We’ll get something—it’ll pay for my next gift.”

Ash glanced at the ruby ring in gold, on her finger.

“Can’t wait,” Ginny said.

“Three Broomsticks?” Colin asked.

Ginny and Colin left the common room. Ash, however, stayed put, felt his loose balls, teased the foreskin, contemplated whether to wank or not.

Ash caught a pair of eyes, of a second year girl, sitting at another table, brown hair, freckled face, one he didn’t know the name to, watch as he stretched his foreskin. She smiled as he let the skin snap back into place, his pink glans exposed. Ash realized that had changed a bit since coming to Hogwarts, now that he was comfortable using his penis to bring smiles to others. He studied her eyes studying his fingers massaging the stiffy, the fingers around his slit, as his left hand moved to stroke. A pull, two strokes, his glans played peekaboo using his foreskin as cover, and her eyes did not waver.

Stomp! Stomp!

Ash’s hand worked, touched, as he felt the spasm under her gaze; however, Ash’s eyes glanced at Neville Longbottom as the orgasm started, before he returned back to her. Hot lava poured down the shaft as Ash ejaculated, the girl simply smiled as he did so. Ash, though, hearing Neville Longbottom coming to a stop, turned his eyes back to Neville Longbottom, in a dark sleeveless–jumper over a T–shirt, aim his mouth, hands clasped, up the stairs.

“NO!” Neville Longbottom shouted, back up the stairs, “I won’t do that!”

Seamus Finnigan came down the stairs, held his wand near the soft circumcised dick hanging below the hem of his white undershirt, his eyes on Neville Longbottom.

“It’s about putting Hogwarts back into Hogwarts,” Seamus Finnigan said.

“I said _NO_ , and that’s final,” Neville Longbottom replied, “It’s not right—”

“Don’t rat us out,” Seamus Finnigan said.

“Then maybe I ought to tell,” Neville Longbottom said.

“Do and we—” Seamus Finnigan made a cutting motion against his loose balls “—on second thought, um, we’ll clear out the dormitory. You bring Luna up, we’ll arrange for dinner, enjoy your bed—no questions asked.” He curled his hand around his soft penis, flexed his hips, let it slide through with a drilling motion.

“You owe me,” Neville Longbottom said.

“Fine, you won’t regret this!” Seamus Finnigan said.

Neville Longbottom turned around, left the common room.

“Well, come on, there’s a drink with my name,” Finnigan said as he made for the portrait hole.

“You’re starkers!” Dean Thomas said.

“Observant,” Finnigan said as he pulled his undershirt off. “If Potter—if the first years can do this, so can I. It’s my costume, so Happy Halloween. Lets see Lisa turn _these_ —” He grabbed and shook his balls beneath his pubic hair “—down.” Finnigan’s buttocks flexed as he left the common room. Dean Thomas, Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch–Fletchley, and Wayne Hopkins followed. Gale and Buck entered.

“You just had to get excited without us,” Buck said as he stood over Ash, eyes studied the puddles around Ash’s soft penis.

“She—” Ash didn’t see her at the table “—never mind, it’ll recharge soon enough.” Ash studied Gale’s loose penis, dangling above.

“Honeydukes?” Buck asked.

“Sure,” Ash replied.

“That’s in…” Gale stuttered.

“We know the way,” Ash said, “Three bags instead of two means a better haul.” Ash reached up, tickled Gale’s loosening testicles.

“Only this one time,” Gale said, grin creeping onto his face.

Ash rolled over, onto his hands and knees, before he stood up. Ash went over to the table, used Seamus Finnigan’s undershirt to wipe his excess semen off, grabbed his book bag, and they left the common room. Ash, several steps behind, watched Buck’s buttocks flex, saddled next to the book bag slung over his shoulder.

“You’re lovely today,” Ash said.

“Staring at my butt?” Buck asked, he exaggerate the sway of it.

“He is,” Gale replied.

“It’s a good butt,” Ash said, “Don’t knock it.”

“You already popped your cherry,” Gale said.

“So?” Ash said, “Doesn’t change facts.”

Ash knew it was weird, like Seamus Finnigan had said, to go about starkers, but Ash had come to enjoy the simplicity of it. Like sharing his own skin, letting it all show, had helped him, and Ash _was_ more willing to participate, than he had before, and more willing to share a bit of his mind with his friends. Despite what others might think, buttocks of a good friend _were_ a good thing to see, embrace, enjoy. His friends were beautiful creatures, no part of them ugly, even when taking a dump. Ash knew that Gale was still a tad apprehensive, blushed as the stiffy grew hard; Ash simply smiled as Gale glanced.

“Check for teachers,” Buck whispered as they reached the third floor.

Gale went around the corner of the corridor, shook his head. Buck whispered to the one–eyed–witch, and the statue moved. Gale trembled slightly, but they went through, into the passage, and the statue closed behind them.

“Secret—?” Gale started.

“Tunnel,” Buck replied.

Ash felt the sudden pressure.

Pfffpt!

Buck laughed.

Pfffpt!

Gale laughed.

Ash appreciated their nudity, their pale skin easier to see in the dimness of the tunnel. Feet beneath the legs, beneath their butts, beneath the shoulder blades on their backs, and Gale’s stiffy casually jutting outward for all to see. Gale’s fingers teased the foreskin as they walked.

“What?” Gale asked Ash.

“Pretty,” Ash said as he curled his right hand around Gale’s stiff shaft, his fingertips set themselves onto the ridge beneath.

“Glad you’re enjoying it,” Gale snapped.

Buck laughed.

“You know him,” Buck said to Gale, “Happy to lend a hand, or a todger. You’re cranky—fell asleep in the common room again?”

“This girl, Easter, spent an hour chatting in the fire, well, arguing more like it,” Gale said, “Did you know her grandmother arranged to have her killed?”

“What?” Ash stammered.

“Yeah,” Gale said, “After she found out Easter and the mother were witches, she hired a guy to take care of the problem’.”

“Colbert teased me,” Ash said, remembering the taunts making him feel ashamed, embarrassed for being magical. Ash rubbed his fingers on Gale’s hard shaft, it helped Ash expel the thoughts.

“Here,” Gale said, as he spun Ash to turn; they stopped walking.

Ash felt the fingers examining the crack of his buttocks, Ash bent forward. Ash felt the hard shaft go inward, Gale began to drill. While the friendship was a pain in the arse at times, feeling Gale using Ash like this did give the reassurance that Ash sought, especially as Ash felt the hot, sticky, semen start to coat the scrotum as Gale ejaculated. A moment later, Ash stood, glanced at Gale’s softening todger still dribbling a little bit of sticky semen, and they resumed walking.

“I couldn’t imagine—my grandmother seemed curious more than anything,” Buck said, “Heck, my mother is proud of me coming to Hogwarts.”

“To mine, one less mouth to feed,” Ash said.

“You’re more than a mouth to feed,” Gale said, “Not a pain in the arse, at the moment.”

“He can be one, later,” Buck said, “Right?”

“Maybe,” Gale said.

They laughed as they came to the end of the tunnel.

“Lemme check,” Buck said, moving to lift the stone.

They listened, Buck lifted, slid the stone to the side. They climbed out, closed the stone, and went up the stairs.

“Um…” Gale stuttered, eyes wide, as he tried to take it all in as they entered the crowded shop. Ash understood, he remembered it, not too long ago, and it was still a treat to see, shelves upon shelves of candy on display.

“Try Zonkos?” Buck asked, “Wait for this to be less crowded later?”

“In a moment,” Gale said, reaching for a fudge only to be thwarted by an older boy reaching faster, “Guess so.”

They left Honeydukes, their bare buttocks flexed as they walked along. A few eyes glanced at their freely dangling todgers before they entered Zonko’s Joke Shop .

“Cool,” Gale said, as he picked up some Dungbombs.

“His favorite,” Buck said.

“Is not,” Gale retorted.

“Is too,” Buck replied.

Ash, though, held Gale’s buttocks.

“Hey!” Gale snapped.

Ash massaged into the fleshy cheeks, as his own todger stiffened back up.

“Oh, he wants it,” Buck said.

Ash kept rubbing in.

“I meant it, not in public,” Gale said.

“Okay, later,” Ash promised, easing up. Ash, though, ran his left fingers down the crack, felt upward to touch the anus, before quickly moving his fingers up to Gale’s nose.

“Eww,” Gale stammered.

“It’s you,” Buck said.

Ash took his wand from his bag, used a cleaning charm on himself, on Gale’s butt.

“Ta,” Gale said as he grabbed a tea cup, it bit. “Ow!”

“It bites noses,” Buck said.

“I get that,” Gale replied.

“Careful!” Buck snapped.

Gale, though, had already gotten too close, as two of the teacups launched the attack.

“Ow! Ow!” Gale stammered as one teacup latched to the scrotum, the other to the foreskin.

Ash held Gale’s todger and scrotum while Buck removed the cups.

“Lets go,” Gale said.

Buck went, leaned against the door frame. Ash leaned to the other side, as Gale paid. Ash watched Buck’s scrotum loosen, the balls descend as the sun warmed them up.

“I think he’s nervous,” Buck said to Ash.

“Yeah,” Ash replied.

Ash watched Buck’s fingers stretch the foreskin. Ash appreciated the perspective that Harry had instilled, that his friends were indeed beautiful, a welcome part of his life. Best friends, with nipples, navals, creases of their boyish charm that led down to the well attached penis; simply hanging out.

“I’m thirsty,” Gale said as he came back to Ash and Buck.

“There’s a pub, right?” Buck asked.

“Think so,” Ash replied, “Of course there is.”

They left Zonko’s Joke Shop .

“That does work,” said the red haired Ginny, her eyes on Colin, in front of the Post Office. Colin’s face was covered with a mask of Harry Potter, complete with glasses, and a lightning bolt scar. His hands were about her waist as his lips went onto hers, her hands slipped down his trousers.

“NO! SEAMUS!”

Parvati Patil snapped at Seamus Finnigan, she was in her shirt, while Finnigan was still starkers with his hand on his circumcised penis, held it toward her as he pissed onto the cobblestone.

“Ain’t it interesting?” Finnigan demanded, waved, showed the whole penis, hanging out from the brown pubic hair.

“It’s more disgusting than those first years!” Parvati Patil shouted.

“Mr. Finnigan!” said Professor McGonagall, her hand gripped his shoulder.

“What do you think?” Finnigan asked, as he spun around, staggered a bit more, as his yellow stream soaked into the flowing green robes.

“This is unacceptable behavior from a Hogwarts student,” Professor McGonagall said, “Go straight to the Hospital Wing, have Madam Pomfrey take care of your intoxication, and you will see me in my office immediately thereafter.”

“Finally, a date!” Finnigan shouted before he wandered off.

“She’s coming this way!” Ash snapped.

Quickly, Ash, Buck, and Gale hid behind the rack of clothes outside Gladrags Wizardwear .

“This turning you on?” Gale asked.

Ash glanced, they watched Buck’s todger stiffen.

“No,” Buck said.

“You’re lying,” Gale said.

They watched Professor McGonagall enter Honeydukes. Quickly, Ash led the way to The Three Broomsticks and they entered.

“Lets settle that,” Ash said, glancing at Buck’s hard erection.

Ash went up the steps to the upper room, which seemed empty, entered.

“I’ll get drinks and stuff,” Gale said.

“Do that,” Buck said.

Gale left. Buck stood in front of the fire, turned to watch Ash.

“You’ve got that look,” Buck said.

“What look?” Ash asked, his eyes focused on his good friend, a friend that took no effort to hide the hard shaft jutting outward.

“One that you want to jump me,” Buck said, eyeing Ash’s rapidly stiffening todger, “Quickly.”

Ash understood, Buck wanted it to. Ash dropped to his knees, held the stiffness, the trust of their strong friendship, began to lick the foreskin. Ash tasted the flavor, of some use, flavor that had once been disgusting, now a reminder that his friend was here, now, present, one that Ash knew, a taste that comforted despite it still being a tad disgusting. Tangy, Ash’s tongue retracted the foreskin as it entered the mouth, the hands held Buck’s lumps, and Ash worked it.

Cough! Cough!

Ash wanted to jump, to stop, however, his tongue refused.

“Stop,” Buck whispered.

Ash turned, where Ginny and Colin were in the corner, where Colin was still wearing the Harry Potter mask. Ginny’s trousers, her knickers were on the floor, intertwined with Colin’s. Colin’s testicles were in the palms of Ginny’s hands as she studied his circumcised hard erection. Colin blushed.

“Dare,” Buck explained.

“Keep going,” Ash said.

“We’re—” Colin started.

“Are you treating her well?” Ash asked, feeling a bit bolder than usual.

“Yes!” Colin snapped.

“Fine,” Ash said.

Ash turned around, sat on the wide sofa in front of the fire. Buck sat next to Ash.

“You’re…not concerned,” Buck said.

“If I’ve learned anything, sex is a good thing,” Ash said, “Celebrate it, that’s Harry’s point of view, and I love it.”

“I lived, for you!” Colin said to Ginny.

Ash glanced over his shoulder as Colin pushed his hard tip into her.

“I love you, your family,” Colin said, “I fight the dark lord, in your honor.”

“Really?” Buck whispered to Ash.

“It’s how they wish to do it, why judge?” Ash asked.

Ginny moaned as Gale entered, tray of butterbeers, sandwiches. He set them onto a table, and sat, cross–legged, next to Ash. Gale’s right fingers teased Ash’s foreskin while using the left to eat a sandwich.

“Anything interesting?” Gale asked.

“No, no,” Buck said, his eyes glanced back to the corner.

Gale’s fingers rubbed Ash’s glans, on the hard cock.

“Hey,” Colin said, as he came over, the mask lifted onto his head, his softening circumcised dick dribbling, “You’re not even supposed to be here.”

“We’ve got permission,” Buck said.

“I’m prefect, whose?” Colin demanded.

“Ours,” Ash said.

“That’s not—” Colin started.

“You mentioned Harry,” Ginny said, coming over, seemingly more brave about her exposure as the three boys were sitting starkers on the sofa.

“I’m not telling,” Ash remarked, Gale’s fingers to the hard erection helped Ash ignore certain apprehensions.

“Why?” Gale asked.

“It’s Halloween,” Ginny said, “That’s why.”

“Tell you what,” Buck said, “We didn’t see you here if you didn’t see us.”

“Suppose that’s okay,” Colin said, “Though, you’re the nudists, you stand out.”

“Not if you stay so,” Ash said as he watched Ginny pull her jeans on, “To honor Harry.”

“Why do we have to—?” Ginny started.

“You banged to him,” Ash said, “Honor him now, in life, so he knows it.”

“We’re not _that_ brave,” Colin said, his hands moved to shield the loose testicles.

“Too bad, it’s fun,” Ash replied.

“Later,” Colin said as he quickly pulled his underwear and trousers back on, feet into his shoes. Colin and Ginny left.

“You’re worried, aren’t you?” Buck asked.

“Yeah,” Ash said, not wanting to go into his intuition, how, even when there’s been an ironclad alibis, Professor Dumbledore hasn’t publicly used it to defend Harry. Ash had inferred that something bigger was in motion, something that was about to get ugly, very ugly.

“Here,” Gale said, as he handed Ash a Butterbeer.

Ash sipped at it, watched the flames work the coals in the fireplace. Ash mulled over an the thought from the Sorting Hat, to enjoy the company of his friends, today. Ash could certainly feel the fingers of Gale caressing the hard erection, the testicles, nearly subconsciously, a reflex from Gale, one that Ash appreciated.

Pfffpt!

Buck laughed first. Ash smelled it, choked for a moment, before Gale joined in the hysterics.

Pfffpt!

Gale blushed, before they laughed again.

* * *

It was several hours later as Ash watched Buck’s hard erection unleash the thread of sticky white across the fingers. Ash cupped his fingers, let the warm puddle form as Buck ejaculated, reminded Ash that his bladder was getting full. Ash waited until Buck finished; Gale snickered. Ash lifted his fingers, let the sticky seed ooze down his fingers, and it began to drip. Gale grabbed Ash’s fingers, licked.

“Honeydukes,” Buck said as he stood.

They approached the door, when footsteps came up the stairs.

“Severus,” came a familiar voice.

“Madam Sprout!” Gale snapped.

“My patience wears thin,” Professor Snape said.

Ash glanced around, spotted the broom in the corner, the window. He ran over, the growing stiffy swung as he grabbed the Shooting Star and went for the window.

“Are you mad?” Gale asked.

“Come on,” Buck said, waving Gale to come hurry as he followed Ash to the window.

Ash opened the window. Buck pushed up on Ash’s buttocks, Ash scrambled over the lip, put his knees, his feet, onto the sloped thatched roof.

“Hurry!” Ash said, keenly aware that the breezy cold overcast day was rapidly shrinking his scrotum to leave his hard dick hanging out by itself between his legs. He had no time to pee, instead, he reached down, helped Buck pull up. Gale shook his head, next to the window.

“It’s either that or—” Buck started.

Squeak!

“What is a young Hufflepuff doing away from Hogwarts?” Professor Snape asked.

Buck and Ash ducked out of view; aware they were likely mooning any witnesses below.

“Mr. Langsett is my most eccentric first year,” Madam Sprout said, “Answer Professor Snape’s question young man.”

Buck grabbed a couple of Dungbombs from his bag, lit and tossed them.

Boom!

Coughs were heard.

“ _Finite Incantatem_!” Professor Snape bellowed. The smoke cleared, fast. “This little excursion is being stopped now, follow unless we need to lasso your exposed extremity. Do we need to?”

“No,” Gale said.

Gale walked with Professor Snape and Madam Sprout, left the attic room.

“Damn!” Buck exclaimed.

They watched Gale leave The Three Broomsticks and head toward Hogwarts.

“Here,” Ash said, mounting the Shooting Star as he figured going back down through The Three Broomsticks was a bad idea, even though it had a lavatory.

“Um…” Buck said.

“Come on,” Ash said.

Buck climbed behind Ash, hung on. Ash screamed as they plunged down fast, landed hard on their feet.

“You’re not a flier,” Buck said.

“No,” Ash said, shook his head, but they did get down.

Ash left the broom leaning against the building, they worked their way back to Honeydukes. Ash held his bladder in, let the pressure build.

“You love danger,” Buck said.

“Do not,” Ash said.

“Yes you do,” Buck said as he briefly grabbed Ash’s outward jutting statue as they entered Honeydukes . “Gale needs some fudge.”

“Yeah,” Ash replied as friendship came before his urge to take a leak, and he knew that Gale wanted to watch.

They grabbed a few slices, along with some frogs, bought them, and went down into the cellar. They lifted the stone, entered the passageway.

“Today’s not great, but have we thought about winter?” Buck asked.

“Dunno,” Ash said.

“It’s going to get cold,” Buck said.

“Suppose we could use cloaks, if really needed,” Ash said, knowing the temperature wasn’t helping him hold it in, “But I’d rather go starkers, see ya every day.”

Buck wrapped his arm around Ash’s neck, and they kept walking. Ash still remembered when showing his stiffy was embarrassing, but not anymore, so Ash took no effort to conceal it, caught Buck’s grin as the eyes kept glancing at it. Wondered if he ought to unleash, or wait for Gale’s presence before letting his bladder release as an apology for the trouble they caused.

Light was ahead, as they approached, saw that a few candles were lit. With her long red hair about her jumper, Ginny was sitting, camera aimed at Colin. Colin was starkers, except for the Harry mask, the hands kept moving to shield the crotch. Colin’s brown pubic hair was pronounced, a bit thin where his soft todger hung down, where Ginny held the camera.

Click!

“You had to—I still don’t like it,” Colin said.

“Closeups don’t have your face,” Ginny said, “Besides, a few more published and maybe the real Harry would agree.”

“You don’t understand Harry!” Ash quipped, coming in fast.

“We’re the _presidents_ to the Hogwarts chapter of the  Unofficial Harry Potter Fan Club ,“ Colin said, “I think we know Harry Potter better than you!”

“You’re the fool if you think he even _likes_ his fame,” Ash said, “Just be his friend, a real friend, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll understand him.”

“Three naked boys now,” Ginny muttered, her eyes fell to Ash’s hard erection.

“Harry _likes_ being naked, just not around _you_ ,” Ash said.

Ash went fast, ran up the passage, Buck followed, and they came to the third floor.

“That was mean,” Buck said.

“I’m _not_ apologizing for telling them the truth,” Ash said, “You can’t force friendship, it just is.” And Ash really wanted to take his leak.

“Lets see if they still have lunch,” Buck said.

They went down to the second floor corridor, when an excited Dennis Creevy ran past.

“Harry’s going to make an announcement,” Dennis Creevy said, “First floor!”

Ash and Buck ran, down to the first floor, where a crowd formed on the corridor overlooking the courtyard.

“Where’s this announcement?” Seamus Finnigan said, seemingly sober, dressed in a gray T–shirt and white briefs.

“Blimey if I know,” Ernie Macmillan said, patter of his bare feet echoed as he came running, dressed in a white T–shirt and white underwear, “Didn’t even have time—”

“STUPEFY!” came the shout.

Red curses, from the wand tips beneath the long sleeve shirts, black and red hair, passed through the students, to hit the stone walls; lightening bolt scar visible on the forehead underneath the raven black wild hair.

“Potter! Weasley!” Dean Thomas said, “As prefect—”

“ _Petrific totalus_!” came the shout from this Harry.

Dean Thomas fell to the floor, screams of the students resonated in the halls.

“Get em,” Seamus Finnigan said.

Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch–Fletchley were the first to reach these two attackers.

“ _Protego!_ ” shouted the red haired boy.

Ropes sprung out of the Holly wand from the black haired boy, bound Ernie Macmillan, who fell to the floor. Black haired brought his fist to Justin Finch–Fletchley’s face.

“Wanna expel me?” the boy shouted, “How _dare_ you even consider it!”

A swift kick, the red hair’s shoe aimed for the crotch, kicked Ernie Macmillan squarely in the bulge. Rapidly, dampness swelled, yellow seeped through the cloth, as Ernie Macmillan pissed through his underwear. Another kick to the ribs.

“Good!” the red haired boy shouted, “You deserve it!”

A knee to Justin Finch–Fletchley’s crotch, a few more punches, the black haired boy had the upper hand. Blood dripped from Finch–Fletchley’s lips as he collapsed, head turned, and a tooth mixed into the new red puddle beneath.

“ _Finite Incantatem_!” Roger Davies shouted, wand drawn.

Both attackers glanced at the crowd swelling toward them, jumped over the ledge, onto Firebolts, and flew.

“ _Stupefy!_ ” Roger Davies shouted, but the fliers rolled, and stunning curse hit the gargoyle supporting the covered roof on the other side of the courtyard.

Professor McGonagall came running.

“Professor—!” Susan Bones shouted.

Professor McGonagall spotted the sixth year Hufflepuffs boys on the floor. Ernie Macmillan, motionless and bound in ropes. Justin Finch–Fletchley, motionless with a bloodied face, and a pair of teeth on the floor.

“Ms. Boot, warn Madam Pomfrey,” Professor McGonagall said as she brought out her wand. She conjured up a pair of stretchers beneath the two boys.

Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas grabbed Ernie Macmillan’s stretcher, ran with it, while Roger Davies and Wayne Hopkins moved Justin Finch–Fletchley’s.

“You—” Professor McGonagall said to Ash and Buck, “Wait in _my_ office. Rest of you, wait in the second floor corridor, as the Headmaster will wish to question you.”

“You’re not going to expel them, are you?” asked Lavender Brown.

“That has not yet been determined,” Professor McGonagall said, “Please, wait in the second floor corridor until called upon. Miss. Bones, you’ll come along with me first.”

Ash and Buck went along the first floor corridor, entered her office. Ash hoped it wouldn’t be too long, figured pissing on the Professor’s desk was a bad idea.

“Gotta admit, they’re rotten,” Buck said.

“It’s not them…dunno why…” Ash went quiet. He didn’t want to believe it, nor could he understand it, having seen Harry leaving the common room starkers that morning. As Harry and Ron were both starkers, he knew they weren’t planning on staying, that wasn’t like Harry to beat up folks like that.

They both stood there, watched each other as they waited. Buck’s eyes fixated on Ash’s todger droop as it softened. Ash wondered if he was starting to leak when the the footsteps approached.

“The Headmaster is playing a dangerous game, one that requires us to have total faith in his abilities,” Professor McGonagall said, as she entered her office, “Not everybody will be persuaded.”

Ash and Buck turned, faced her, with her billowing emerald green robes. Her eyes took a moment, to register, as Ash understood her to quickly be judging them, as they stood starkers before her. Ash felt more relaxed, judging by skin was far fairer than judging by expensive clothes.

“First explain why you were there,” Professor McGonagall said.

“Dennis Creevy said Harry Potter was making an announcement,” Buck said.

“I meant Hogsmeade,” Professor McGonagall said, “Given your choice of clothing freedom, three starkers first years stand out from the crowd. Yes, I know it was three, because you abandoned your friend there.”

“Um…” Buck muttered.

“I do not understand every aspect of Albus Dumbledore’s intellect,” Professor McGonagall said, “He’s taken a liking to your mini–rebellion, but do not confuse that for acceptance of misbehavior. People judge others, fairly or unfairly, based on _your_ appearance, your deeds, and your misdeeds. Act appropriately, and we won’t have to reconsider your situation. Do I need to list specific violations?”

Ash and Buck shook their heads.

“Hogwarts is not Azkaban,” Professor McGonagall said, “For every gate, there are a myriad of ways to surreptitiously come and go. Therefore, remember that visiting Hogsmeade is for those of the third year, or above, with parental permission, only. There are plenty of things to do within Hogwarts, if you crave sweets, a teacher or two could be persuaded, or send an owl. If you’ve got so much free time, I can re–evaluate the amount of homework I give you, to help foster your education.”

“We’re fine,” Buck said.

“As I did not personally witness _your_ adventure into Hogsmeade nor do I have a confession, no points will be docked nor detention will be awarded,” Professor McGonagall said, “Though, ask your friend about his should you consider trying to repeat it. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes,” Buck replied.

“Mr. Hurley?” Professor McGonagall asked.

Ash nodded.

“Please speak it,” Professor McGonagall said.

“Yes,” Ash said, the pressure of his bladder gave him a sense of urgency.

“You are doing better than before,” Professor McGonagall said, “Albus concurs that your attire is helping, which is why I’ll endorse it conditionally on continued good behavior. To help both that and the intellect you’ve shown on your homework, I’m giving you an extra project, an oral report, to be delivered in front of the class in a week. Or, given your tastes, a demonstration, turning a water goblet into a chamber pot?”

“Report,” Ash said.

“Puberty,” Professor McGonagall said, “How it effects a wizard’s magical capability, what you expect will happen in yours, and your worst dread as it approaches.”

“That’s—” Buck started.

“Relevant as you’re about to show yours off,” Professor McGonagall said, “Or, should we cover the abuse of Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment that I understand that you committed earlier this month?”

“What?” Buck started.

“Empty jars were found about the same time you started setting yourselves off at every opportunity,” Professor McGonagall said.

“We learned from it,” Ash said.

“Hogwarts prepares you for life, when there isn’t somebody always looking over your shoulder, always protecting you,” Professor McGonagall said, “How you conduct yourself matters, because people will see your actions, judge you and those around you, fairly or unfairly, as Mr. Potter is learning fast.”

“It wasn’t him,” Ash said, the pressure was getting intense.

“How do you know?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“I…he didn’t act like Harry,” Ash said.

“Understand my point about your behavior?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“Yes,” Ash replied.

“Every year I see student after student come to Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall said, “I see the potential in each and every one of them—some make it more obvious than others.” Her eyes quickly swept over them. “What are your potentials, your aspirations? I—defer your essay for a couple of weeks, we’ll make this class wide, for every first year.”

“Oral?” Buck asked.

“Yes, oral report,” Professor McGonagall said, “As to puberty, you two certainly won’t be able to deny it once it comes. Hopefully, with it, you’ll become better disciplined. Dismissed, go to Gryffindor Tower. I’ll see you at the feast, one your friend won’t be attending due to his detention.”

Buck and Ash left the office.

“Thanks for that _oral_ report!” Buck snapped at the fast walking Ash.

“At least _we_ didn’t get detention,” Ash said, realized he have to piss for Gale another time.

“I think she’s looking forward to seeing you get hair there!” Buck said.

“She was staring at _yours_ ,” Ash said.

“No, yours,” Buck said.

“You were staring there,” Ash said, “You’re wanting to see hair there.”

“That’ll look good,” Buck said.

“So will yours,” Ash promised.

“You love me,” Buck said.

“You love me,” Ash retorted.

They laughed as they hurried along the seventh floor corridor.

“Who’s with me?” came the muffled cry from the other side of the painting of the Fat Lady.

“Knock, knock,” Buck said.

“It’s been changed,” Colin said, as he stood nearby, his blue jeans restored, but shirtless, with Ginny’s hands and wrists wrapped in from behind him, underneath the belt and contributing to the front bulge. “We need to talk.”

“Bathroom,” Ash said, hoping Colin would simply let him go.

“Good enough,” Colin said.

Ash realized the misunderstanding, Colin thought it a proposal and followed Ash to the seventh floor boys bathroom; Ginny and Buck followed. Ash, though, knew Hogwarts had a certain magic, the lavatory had rearranged itself as he entered, to Ash’s needs, as a urinal appeared on the floor, right beneath Ash, as he faced Colin. Ash let his bladder as he spoke.

“Alright, strip!” Ash said, as he began to pee.

“What?” Colin said.

“You want to know Harry—can’t judge your honesty otherwise,” Ash said as he shook out the loitering drops from his slit.

“It’s alright,” Ginny said to Colin, as she undid his belt, his fly, and dropped.

“You’re a first year,” Colin said.

“And I know Harry better than you,” Ash said, his eyes watched Ginny remove her knickers, with red stubble around her vulva. “Look, sorry, I just don’t know who to trust otherwise. If you’re willing to be starkers for Harry, we stand a chance.”

“So we need to play with your balls?” Buck asked, reaching, tickling Ash’s testicles.

“No…no,” Ash stammered.

Ginny reached over, teased them. Ash laughed for a moment.

“You do seem to need it,” Ginny said, “What do you know of Harry?”

“That he likes to be starkers whenever he can,” Ash said.

Buck raised his eyebrows.

“He did do his summer holiday, pretty much starkers,” Ginny said.

“Who were those with the Dark Lord? Wore the black robes?” Ash said, “Nevermind, _they_ had a uniform with each other, so we need one. I’ve been going starkers, in support of him, and I think it’s fitting.”

“A thousand different reasons have been flying about that,” Ginny said.

“A thousand reasons why we started,” Buck said, “Though I understand that Harry accidentally started it, but Ash is—better because of it. He’s been more talkative.”

“If you believe in Harry enough to go starkers for him, then we can work together,” Ash said, “I don’t have any bright ideas to prove it, but that wasn’t Harry back there.”

“I was questioning my eyes,” Ginny said.

“Have any proof clearing him?” Colin asked.

“No, but I have questions,” Ash said, “I doubt he was even here, I mean, he showed up this morning with his girlfriend—both starkers, and left.”

“Ron and Hermione did too,” Ginny said.

“Where are the girls?” Ash asked.

“Dunno,” Ginny said, “I used the firechat, called Dad for Halloween, but neither Fred nor George were there—nor were they at the shop.”

“Harry _loves_ being starkers so long as it’s not here,” Ash said, “And, you’d seriously expect me to believe he left his starkers girlfriend to beat up a couple of sixth–years for revenge in front of a big audience?”

“Seemed convincing to me,” Colin said.

“Because it was likely supposed to be,” Ash said, “Something doesn’t add up, it hasn’t for a while, I mean, if it wasn’t Harry who raped me, could be the same person, somebody who wants us to _think_ it’s Harry.”

“It’s possible,” Ginny said.

“It gives us some hope to hold onto,” Colin said, “In the meanwhile—”

“In the meanwhile, put the camera away and stop being fans,” Ash said, “He needs you as friends, now more than ever. You want him to fuck you—stop trying! Be his friend, let him trust _your_ intentions, ask, and you’ll understand him. I’ve trusted him, and he knows he just has to ask, so I know he didn’t rape me, and my faith in him tells me that today was another hoax.” He paused, glanced downward as his todger stiffened. “That’s for him.”

“Word of warning,” Buck said, “Ash gets quite talkative if you play with his balls.”

“Harry’s done you?” Ginny asked.

“Be a friend, first,” Ash said, “Will I see you at the feast, starkers for Harry?”

“Yes,” Colin said.

Ginny nodded.

“Lets go and support Harry then,” Ash said, “Ta.” He went for the door.

“I’d stay away from Seamus if I were you,” Colin said, “Unless you want to express your dying breath to getting rid of Harry Potter from Hogwarts.”

“Noted,” Ash said.

Buck followed Ash.

“Where to?” Buck asked.

“Well, I suppose we could ask a teacher, or try the library,” Ash said.

“You bookworm,” Buck replied.

They went to the fifth floor.

* * *

Ash watched Tina stand up, in the library, the windows outside darkened as the evening had already set in, her naval with the belly button, showed. She came over. Ash stood, his eyes traced her nipples on the breasts hanging loose.

“You’re interested,” Tina said, her eyes on his stiffening dick.

“Of course!” Ash stammered, moved his hands outward, “Check me into the Hospital Wing if it ever doesn’t.”

Her smile made him feel the pride in his erection showing off to her. He retracted his foreskin, let the pink glans out.

“Dinner time,” Tina said.

“Skip dinner,” Ash said, she was more tempting.

Ash stepped closer, hugged her.

“I’d stop unless you’re eager to get detention _before_ the feast,” Buck said.

“What got into him?” Tina asked.

“We got…warned,” Ash said.

“Aw,” Tina said.

“After the feast?” Ash asked.

“Maybe,” Tina replied.

“I’ll take that,” Ash said, cramming his papers, books, and quill into his bookbag. He slung it over his shoulder.

Buck followed, from a short distance, as they left the library. Tina reached, held Ash’s hand, it rested on Ash’s buttock. Ash remembered Professor McGonagall’s warning, figured wanking was a lousy idea, so he let his hard erection sway as they walked, letting it remain.

“Suppose you’re against doing it at the feast,” Tina said as they entered the Entrance Hall.

“We were just cautioned,” Ash said, “Give the teachers a week, and it’ll be fake news.”

Tina snorted, they stopped, faced each other.

“Look, when I need it, I need it,” Tina said, “Fingers work, so do toys, but yours—it’s better with you.”

“After the feast?” Ash asked.

“We also need to talk—about today,” Tina said.

“We’ll talk,” Ash said, “To support—”

“I’m not starkers for him,” Tina said, “I’m starkers because it teases _you_.”

“Aw,” Ash said, “I’m good, but—it’s nice. Ta.”

His eyes feasted on the breasts, but mostly her lavender eyes ensnared his attention, he drew closer. Her firm mounds pressed against his chest, his dick found its way and touched her clitoris. She adjusted herself, his tip slipped down onto her folds as his arms wrapped around her. He pushed as he brought his lips to hers, his shaft slipped inward, pressed his groin against her, and he kissed.

“Muggleborns showing their beast side,” Draco Malfoy seethed as he walked past toward the Great Hall, “Disgusting.” He spat before he entered.

“Ahem,” Buck said, “Later.”

“Yeah,” Ash said, pushing back against Tina, “Later. Rain check?”

“Sure,” Tina said.

Buck grabbed Ash, pulled him toward the Great Hall.

“Sorry, saw Professor McGonagall,” Buck said.

“Ta,” Ash said, wishfully wanting that extra moment that he had needed to finish the job. Instead, his hard cock kept his slit bared as he walked along the Gryffindor Table, where he did see Ginny and Colin sitting starkers among the sea of black robes. Buck and Ash sat at with the first years, a scowling look on the various faces.

“For somebody who likes to keep a low profile, you’re not,” Buck whispered to Ash.

“I heard Potter is **STAYING** ” Finnigan shouted.

“Where is he?” Dean Thomas asked, glancing around the Great Hall.

In wheelchairs and hospital pajamas, Justin Finch–Fletchley and Ernie Macmillan were wheeled in. Bandages were upon their faces.

“No stress,” Madam Pomfrey said as she pushed, “Just enjoy the feast.”

“Yeah, enjoy it because it may be your last!” Finnigan said, loudly, “Courtesy of one Harry Potter, the boy who shouldn’t have lived!”

“Attention!” Professor McGonagall said as she stood, “Attention!”

“Boo!” Seamus Finnigan shouted, started the outpouring.

“BOO! BOO! EXPEL!”

BANG!

Sparks from Professor Dumbledore’s wand, him standing while holding firmly to his cane with his other hand.

“Not all of the facts are known to any one person,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Nor are the plans of Voldemort—”

“LIE!” Seamus Finnigan shouted, “HE DIED SIXTEEN YEARS AGO!”

“Mr. Potter will remain a student at Hogwarts for the foreseeable future,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Let us enjoy the feast.”

Boos came across the Great Hall as the hands came together, and the food appeared. Only teeth sinking into the buckets of chicken, the ham, the macaroni and cheese, brought any sense of quiet to the room.

“Give Potter his own set of dentures,” Malfoy said.

“I wish,” Justin Finch–Fletchley said.

“Just glad he’s not here tonight,” said Roger Davies.

Clapping came around the Great Hall.

“Where is he?” Buck asked Ash.

Ash shrugged. He didn’t know either. He simply glanced over to the Ravenclaw table, where Tina’s breasts hung out, taunting Ash. They ate, food turned to desserts and sweets. Ash recognized the variety from Honeydukes’ and understood why Professor McGonagall had visited it earlier.

Students filed out, burping as they did so. It thinned, until Tina crossed over, sat to the other side of the table from Ash, her lavender eyes on Ash’s blue, a bit somber on her eyes.

“Had an argument,” Tina said, “You’re _worth_ knowing, even though it means being starkers.”

“Um…” Ash stuttered.

“He appreciates it,” Buck replied.

“I am curious,” Tina said, “About you too.”

Buck blushed.

“Well, I think the table here is not the best spot,” Ash said, glancing about at the few others still there, “Wait or go elsewhere?”

“Your place?” Tina asked.

“Library?” Ash said, “Under a table.”

“Sure,” Tina replied.

They got up. Ash hopped over the table, strode out with Tina next to him, Buck followed. They left the Great Hall. Buck began to cough as they crossed the Entrance Hall, toward the marble stairs.

Strong smell of alcohol overcame Ash, he felt dizzy, stumbled, fell backward onto the marble floor. As his vision blurred, a figure stood overhead, black hair, bottle green eyes, and Ash blacked out.


	56. Seekers

“It’s just another experiment,” Coach Meyers said to Harry, “I know how addictive a Firebolt can be.”

Harry settled his Firebolt back down next to the other brooms, and once again returned back to the Nimbus 2002. Amy Greystok’s eyes fixated onto his soft penis as Harry peed. Shadows of the goal posts stretched across the field as the sun started to loiter above the rolling wooded hills around them.

“I’m curious if it’s the broom or the player,” Coach Meyers said, “Ready?”

Harry glanced at Amy with her shaved pussy and her erect clitoris, she and Luke watched the golden yellow drop from his slit. He waited until it came to a stop. Amy rubbed her clitoris, licked her lips, hinting at her ideas for her role as his opponent for the next match, she was going to be the Blue Team’s Seeker. Coach Meyers had been alternating that role all day between her and Silvester Shadwell, changing which games he’d be playing with a Nimbus 2002 or his Firebolt. Harry’s loose and sweaty testicles settled onto the handle of the broom as he mounted the Nimbus 2002, felt the bristles on his bare buttocks.

Harry appreciated the relaxed attitude the Coaches had, with them playing starkers. At first it was a bit silly on the antics, but they seemed to play at their best when it’s just them and a broom, nothing else to hide behind.

“It’ll be night soon, you might want to keep this one short,” Coach Meyers said, “Twenty minutes to the Snitch.” Coach Meyers released the Bludgers and tossed up the Quaffle.

Harry flew upward, straddled his broom as he waited, watched. He felt the fingers teasing his loose balls, the arm that reached between his legs to touch them.

“Hey!” Harry snapped at Amy Greystok, right behind him.

Pfffpt! Pfffpt!

“Like that’ll work on me,” Amy said, “My, my, you’re still not fazed by this?” She held his stiffening erection.

“Not now,” Harry said.

“Later then?” Amy asked.

“Maybe,” Harry said.

“You’re not like most new players,” Amy said, “When Andrew came on? Oh, his small dick really unnerved him, took him weeks, maybe months, to get over it.”

“Experience,” Harry replied.

“Good, share that experience,” Amy said.

“Go bugger—” Harry glanced, first at Ron taking a face plant from Katie Bell into his balls, at Fred and George comparing their hard dicks to their bats, before his eyes landed on Oliver Wood lacking any pubic hair. “Wood!”

“He’s blue balls, you’re red delicious,” Amy said, as she smacked her lips, her eyes loitered as she studied Harry’s hard erection jutting outward, the retracted foreskin that left the glans exposed, “Very delicious.”

Harry flew, fast, on the Nimbus 2002, slower than his Firebolt, but flew, butt in the air. Amy pursued, her eyes fixed at his bared buttocks. Harry glanced along the broom, his hard cock cast a shadow against her, she’d appear to the left or right of it, alternating as she made it clear she was pursuing his bare butt, his balls swung in the breeze, passing over her bare and erect nipples. She got closer, reached, and he felt her fingers touch his anus.

“Really?!” Harry stammered, wondered how sticky she liked it back there.

Harry, though, understood the message, moved his head back, accelerated a bit more, and pulled away from her. Harry glanced ahead, as Luke rolled on his broom with Quaffle in hand. Luke’s hard dick into the air, the sun cast a shadow across the buzzed blond pubic hair, and flew right underneath Ron, through the hoop.

“Ten points for blue!” Rayner announced.

Harry, though, watched as Lester Frogmore pushed on Katie, who now had the Quaffle, tried to knock her off her broom. Harry pushed his handle forward, dove. Harry fell right in front of Katie, his cock dragged across Lester’s face, his slit with a bit of clear liquid on it touched the nose, before Lester took a tumble.

“Ta!” Katie shouted back.

Harry recovered, watched Katie spread her legs as she approached Oliver Wood. A shower, a golden shower started up from Katie’s folds, and Oliver Wood’s eyes flinched as she sunk the Quaffle through the hoops before he took the rest of her golden shower.

“Ten points for red!” Rayner announced, “Nice teamwork!”

Harry understood the rules that he had been seeing enforced, use your full body to the fullest extent, any distraction was acceptable, even if it meant fertilizing the lawn, which seemed charmed to take care of the business that fell on it. It had taken Harry a tad of time to adjust, but he had adjusted, as it wasn’t a big leap from doing it during his morning runs. Harry enjoyed being accepted by this group, a good idea of Oliver Wood’s. 

Harry was quickly drawn out of his thoughts by the hand grabbing his loose testicles. Harry rolled over, grabbed Amy, and they rolled onto the grass. Harry straddled Amy, his eyes focused on her blue eyes.

“Just get it over with,” Harry said as he tapped his hard cock onto her abdomen. She grinned as he let it drag on her skin.

“Later,” Amy promised.

“No banging _during_ the game!” Fred snapped at Harry.

“See?” Amy replied.

Harry pulled the broom beneath him, flew off, having found the limit. He flew a bit faster, in front of Ron.

“Nice dick!” Ron snapped at Harry.

“Letting it out now!” Coach Darrell Meyers yelled.

Harry saw it, the gold leave the fingers as the Snitch flew up into the air, vanished.

… 

Gia watched through the omnioculars as Luke and Craig Nesper teamed up, her breasts rested on her arms. Luke, with his buzzcut blond pubic hair, rapidly flew the broom backward toward Ron, legs parted as the anus fast approached Ron’s hard cock. As the buttocks touched Ron’s dick, Ron backed up, avoided the collision as Craig flew the Quaffle past Ron.

“He’s undoubtedly not letting up,” Hermione said, her eyes at the bench in front over her, arms crossed over her bare chest obscuring her modest breasts while Amy did a handstand on the broom in front of Ron, legs parted to show off the vulva.

“It’s tactics,” Gia said, her breast flopped off as she moved her arms.

“Tactics my arse!” Hermione snapped.

“Harry gets it,” Gia said, pointing at the poop dropping from his anus as he flew above, “They all do, to put your full self into the game, whether it’s taking a dump, or using a todger offensively or even defensivelyIt’s full commitment. If it were a problem, I’d expect that they’d—” she pointed at Coach Meyers feverishly taking notes “—would step in?”

“It’s not family friendly,” Hermione said.

“It’s not a kindergarten, and they’re having a good time,” Gia said, gripping her omnioculars, “So am I.”

“Not even bother asking me what I’d _like_ to do,” Hermione said, “Surprised I’m not sunburned.”

Pfffpt!

“You had a toffee?” Notley asked, joining back up.

“It’s a flesh circus,” Hermione said, as she glared at him. Notley was one of the few that hadn’t stripped, neither had the coaches, still in their uniforms of white.

“A good one,” Gia said, as she trained the omnioculars at Andrew Haslar’s butt as he loitered. She admired the two large lumps dangling between the legs, bollocks that made up for his todger, testicles that likely pumped a lot, the largest pair there.

“Most practices are clothing optional,” Notley said as he sat, “As Team Healer, I appreciate this too.”

“Your interest?” Hermione asked, her eyes glanced at the cloth over the crotch.

Gia wasn’t completely certain, but the shift beneath the white shorts hinted at Notley’s interest in conversing with them. A moment later, the stiffy beneath the white was unmistakable. He shifted his weight, the cloth adjusted to a more comfortable position.

“I find the male players are more hesitant to address problems,” Notley said, “The todger doesn’t lie. We caught one, last year, about to have a stroke—and because his dick stopped working properly, we were able to save him in the nick of time; sure, he’s not on the team, but he’s alive with his wife and kids.”

“Oh,” Hermione muttered.

“I kid you not,” Notley said, “Keep an eye on your boys, if their dicks are off, get them in to be checked out, it could save their lives.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Hermione said as she rolled her eyes.

Gia realized Hermione’s mind was more disapproving of the nude Quidditch being played, not Notley’s message.

“I’ll definitely keep an eye out,” Gia said, studying Luke’s erection beneath his short pubic hair, “Something about the toffees?” 

“It’s the standard practice,” Notley said, “Has a sunblock potion in it, keeps you from getting sunburned, among other properties.”

“Aw,” Gia said, she had a hunch to the toffee’s other properties as she watched Stanly’s long hard cock ejaculate onto the Quaffle.

… 

Harry briefly saw the long blond hair flow right in front of him as the hand grabbed his hard erection.

“Hey!” Harry snapped at Amy.

“I figured this is the best spot to keep a lookout,” Amy said.

“Not on my dick,” Harry said.

“You ain’t going for the Snitch without it,” Amy replied.

Harry’s right hand reached over, touched her hard point, rubbed her clitoris before his fingers worked her folds, his thumb caressed her small erect flesh.

“Nice try, mister,” Amy said.

“You’re trying to give me a hand job,” Harry said, “Only fair I give you change for it. Need to bang?”

Harry worked it fast, heard her sigh, her grip on his erection loosened, and he rolled. His hard cock slid out, the dick tremored for a moment, eager, but he dove. She pursued, though stayed a short ways above him. Harry’s eyes saw the twinkle of gold, focused on the Snitch just in front of him. Harry reached out.

Pop!

The Golden Snitch vanished.

“It’s an apparating snitch!” Amy said, “That’s not fair!”

Harry felt the sprinkle, glanced up, where a yellow shower was drizzling from her vagina, onto him. Amy smiled, and Harry flew. She followed, the sprinkles continued.

“Come here,” Amy said.

Harry found himself, not disgusted by it, but enticed by it, a bit more than he’d play with Gia, but still. His cock twitched at the sight of her letting herself drizzle in a slow, controlled, urination. Harry moved upward fast, his head hit square on her folds as she had quickly moved to block him.

“I’m not that easy,” Harry swore.

“I’m not intimidating enough, am I?” Amy said, “Think I’ll try your Keeper.”

Amy broke off, flew toward Ron, held her breasts with their nipples toward him. Ron smiled. Harry figured it for the best, he wanted to focus on finding the snitch. Harry scanned the field.

“HARRY!” came Fred’s bellow.

Harry glanced, saw Amy moving fast on her Nimbus 2002, chasing the Snitch as it flew from Ron toward Wood. Harry moved his broom, accelerated as fast as he could, hoping that he could close the large lead Amy had. Her arm outstretched, a few feet toward it, while Harry still had a dozen yards. Still, Harry reached out, when the Snitch seemed to jump much closer, and Harry closed his hand around it as Amy collided with her head against his bare buttocks.

“No fair!” Amy protested, “He Apparated!”

“What?” Harry asked, pressing the Snitch against his slit, “Suck it!”

“You weren’t paying attention,” Fred said.

“I saw it, he Apparated,” Silvester Shadwell said, his erect dick bent as ever.

“He’s sixteen and a sixth year,” George said, his testicles rested on the broom handle, both tried to be as far apart to either side as the scrotum allowed, “He’s not old enough—and, they won’t teach him that until next year.”

“I don’t know how,” Harry said, his erection proudly jutting outward.

“As much as I’d love to back you,” Oliver Wood said, coming over, “It did look like it.”

“I can’t have,” Harry said, a bit uncertain as there has been times he couldn’t explain his travels, like the time he was found on the school’s roof so many years ago back in Little Whinging.

“Snitch was apparating all match,” Hermione said, coming over.

“Ta,” Harry said, appreciative of her backup, her clitoris peaking from her carpet simply added to his current feeling of bliss.

“Did you knowingly Apparate?” Coach Darrell Meyers asked Harry.

“No,” Harry said, confident of _that_. _Accidentally_ , he was less sure.

“We’ll take you at your word,” Coach Darrell Meyers said, “Red team won, again—um, has blue won, at all?”

“No,” Coach Adam Gerber said, shaking his head as he tallied up the wins on his clipboard, exclusively for the reds, “That’s it for today!”

“Make it up to you,” Harry said to Amy, his eyes on her blond hair, “You are beautiful.”

“You’ve got a girlfriend,” Fred said.

“It’s an open relationship,” Harry said as he grabbed his loose testicles, shook them at hers.

“You won’t regret this,” George said to Amy.

Amy came close, held Harry’s hard cock.

“It’s a tradition,” Luke said as Amy stepped closer to Harry.

Amy bent over backwards, touched the grass with her shoulders, her vulva presented itself to Harry, partially spread.

“Go ahead,” George said.

Harry tapped his hard cock against her clitoris.

“I’m waiting,” Amy said.

Harry’s glans began to push inward, delved between the two halves that wanted to envelop his shaft. Coach Darrell Meyers coughed.

“There’s an urgent conversation for you to tend to,” Coach Darrell Meyers said as Harry pulled out, “And, lets not be late for the Halloween Festivities.”

“You owe me,” Amy said, her finger pointed at Harry.

“What?” Harry muttered, it wasn’t his idea to stop, his hard cock was ready, available, and willing.

Fred and George pulled Harry aside as Harry grabbed his Firebolt.

“We understand you’re horny,” Fred said, sporting his own erection, “We all are. However, there are rules to Quidditch.”

“I know,” Harry said.

“This isn’t adult Quidditch, so you can’t bang _on_ the field,” George said.

“Funny, couldn’t tell,” Harry replied, thinking to all the handjobs and wanking that he had witnessed, not to mention treating the grass as a chamber pot.

“These coaches let us get away with a lot at practice,” Fred said.

“Enjoyable,” George said, curled fingers around the cock pretended to stroke it.

“I’ve got a dick that wants to—” Harry said, his two right fingers made a thrusting motion between his circled left fingers.

“We know,” Fred said, glancing at Harry’s hard shaft that jutted out from beneath the curly raven black pubic hair.

“Save it for the party, a few minutes away,” George said as he pulled a couple knots out of his red pubic hair, “Worth the wait.”

“In fact, we suggest holding out, until the end,” Fred said.

“More enjoyable,” George replied.

“You had the toffee, right?” Fred asked.

“Yes,” Harry said.

“Good,” George said.

Harry wondered about that statement as continued to walk to the country club’s lodge. They entered the room with the wood paneling and the Puddlemere United colors of blue and white.

“What’s this I’m hearing?” Hermione asked, catching up, Gia with her, “I thought this _was_ the party.”

Harry let his eyes wander over the two naked girls standing there, different, but both enjoyable. Gia, with her voluptuous breasts, the large nipples, to Hermione’s modest breasts with smaller nipples. Gia, with her carefree attitude, about to tease him, versus Hermione’s studious nature demonstrating her friendship through her many deeds. Both desirable in their own ways, however, tonight, he had a chance to stray, to try something new, and he wanted to take advantage of it.

“No,” Fred said, “That was practice—with guests.”

“Trust Wood to not give you specifics,” George said.

“I need a word with you,” Coach Darrell Meyers said to Harry.

Harry glanced at Ron, already on a plush chair, leaning back into it, hard cock jutted out and upward between the spread legs.

“We’ll take the girls, on ahead,” George said.

“Um…sure,” Harry said.

Fred and George took Gia and Hermione into the fireplace, with handfuls of Floo Powder, vanished. Harry sat on the chair next to Ron.

“Don’t you love it?” Ron said, pointed at Harry’s hard erection, “You’re just about to get to the good part and they—”

“Like I said, business,” Coach Darrell Meyers said, his eyes went to the pair of hard cocks, with clear liquid welling in the slits indicative of imminent usage, “Clearly you’re enjoying yourselves, gotten comfortable with the team, and they certainly seem to like _you_.”

“I suppose so,” Harry said.

“You were about to bang their best Seeker after repeatedly defeating her,” Ron said, “And while that first time Kristi took a dump was disgusting, she, well, wanted to try me.”

Assistant Coaches Adam Gerber and Leroy Kline, both in their matching white suits and coaching jackets came over, stood next to the head coach. Oliver Wood, with a straight scar indicative of a razor accident while shaving his scrotum, stood nearby.

“You both clearly have some level of maturity,” Coach Meyers said, “And a display of talent that would make the senior league blush. However, I’m in charge of Puddlemere United and we recruit based on talent. After some pestering from Oliver Wood here, and another advocate on your behalf, we decided that bringing you in on the pretext of Halloween and observing your performance would be good.”

“Oh,” Harry understood the implications, both he and Ron had been on the same team all day, everybody else had been switched around.

“Weasley, here, certainly held his own,” Oliver Wood said, “You, Harry, you waltzed over Shadwell, even gave Greystok a run for her money despite her dirty antics. So, yeah, I knew a good seeker five years ago, and you’ve only gotten better—even if you’re apparating to the Snitch.”

“I wasn’t apparating!” Harry quipped.

“Master that denial,” Ron quipped as he ran his fingers through his pubic hair, “Stranger things have been known to happen with _you_.”

“Only fair, the Snitch was apparating too,” Oliver Wood said.

“We’re interested in your talent,” Coach Darrell Meyers said, “While it’s rare to recruit sixth years from Hogwarts, it’s not unheard of, including the odd seventh year who’s tired of school.”

“Katie, for instance,” Oliver Wood remarked. Oliver tapped on the slit of his dick, it stiffened, “She’s hot, too.”

“You’d be good additions,” Assistant Coach Leroy Kline said “You even enjoy the camaraderie shared by the team.”

“After many years, I’ve wised up,” Coach Darrell Meyers said, “You’re all of consenting age, and it’s better to let things dangle in the open, so we can nip trouble early, than to hide and let it fester, because that only leads to scandals, and a team that can’t work together.”

“We’d like to consider moving forward, possibly even bringing you on,” Assistant Coach Adam Gerber said.

“Sure,” Ron said, “Harry?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, his hard cock certainly agreed with this plan.

“We’d like to bring you on, train you up, and see how that goes,” Coach Darrell Meyers said, for we do foresee an opening for next year that—”

Squeak! Creak! Creak!

Everybody else went silent as creaking from an under–oiled door echoed, along with footsteps entering the building.

“Were you expecting anybody?” Assistant Coach Adam Gerber softly asked Coach Darrell Meyers, shaking his head.

“Frank?” a squeaky voice inquired, “Frank? I have some wagers—”

A small, pasty, man rounded the corner into the room, the silvery hand reflected the low flames of the fireplace. Small watery eyes gazed upon Harry’s, the eyes that heeded the command to kill Cedric, eyes on the one who stole blood to use it for that vile potion, eyes that filled Harry with enough disgust that his hard cock went limp in the blink of an eye.

POP!

Harry found himself, in the air, on his Firebolt with his genitals dangling, already moving; Ron, Oliver, and the Coaches were spectators as Harry pushed to go faster toward Wormtail. Wormtail backed up, and fumbled at the door knob, opened it. Harry flew threw the door as Wormtail tumbled to the ground. Harry made a tight turn on the gravel loading dock, when he realized his wand was at Hogwarts, on his desk with his Portkey, and figured he’d just use his bare hands.

“Potter!” Wormtail blurted as his left hand tapped his right silver hand.

Pop!

Wormtail disapparated.

Harry flew back in. “Bloody hell!” Harry exclaimed as he landed.

“Wa—was that who I thought it was?” Assistant Coach Adam Gerber asked, “Older than—well, a while.”

“Peter Pettigrew,” Ron said.

“He was killed fifteen—” Meyers said.

“So he wanted you to think,” Harry said, “Wormtail, as he’s known by nowadays…we had all better leave, now.”

“Wait just a—” Coach Darrell Meyers protested.

“He recognized _me_ ,” Harry said, “We must leave because Death Eaters will be here in minutes.”

“I concur with Harry,” Oliver Wood said, “Professor Dumbledore gave me explicit instructions. Lets move on.”

Ron, also with a soft cock, stood and joined Harry in carrying their _Firebolts_ , into the fireplace.

“Andrew Haslar, micropenis!” Oliver shouted as he dropped the Floo Powder, “It’s their password.”

* * *

Harry stumbled out of the fireplace, into a posh living room, speakers were pulsing out the sound of a mature but young male voice.

Thrust it in, pull it out, 

My three inch wand sauces out, 

Just magic it about.

“Bear in mind, I’m technically a teacher,” Oliver Wood said as Ron and Harry laid their _Firebolts_ against the sofa, “Count me out of your plans.”

“Funny that,” Ron said as Oliver Wood’s bare buttocks flexed ahead. Harry and Ron followed Oliver Wood out of the double venetian doors, onto the deck surrounding a swimming pool.

“Technically his garden,” Oliver Wood said, “Have fun!”

“Okay,” Ron said, at all the bare buttocks, there wasn’t a shred of cloth on any of them, “Gotta say, this is cool.”

Harry glanced, walked along. Ron, however, noticed Amy, with her bare boobs floating in the water, her eyes tracking him, and she smiled. Ron knelt by the edge of the pool.

“Not interested?” Amy asked, her eyes on Ron’s soft todger.

“It needed a break, Just watch,” Ron replied, as he felt the blood rush. Together, they watched his todger stiffen, and the erection returned. She smiled. “Better?”

“You’re sixteen?” Amy asked.

“And a half,” Ron boasted.

“Hmm..” Amy said.

Amy’s fingers reached up, touched his shaft, while her lips came to the side, kissed it. Ron felt it, his hard cock shared in the excitement, more than being starkers, a stranger was actively interested, and his cock wanted to show her even more. Her fingers touched his fulcrum and she kissed his slit, the excitement, and he felt the quiver.

“Yes, yes, you _are_ interested, but lets not spoil the pleasure of the evening,” Amy said, as she pulled back, “Well, get a toffee and a drink, first.”

Ron stood up, conscious that his stiffy was jutting out, and it was a welcome part of him. He went over to the table, grabbed a blue toffee and a filled beer mug.

“Only one per evening,” Fred said, whose rock hard cock swayed as he turned to glance at Ron.

“This’d be my first,” Ron replied.

“Don’t worry, it provides protection,” George said, also sporting an erection beneath thick red pubic hair, “Though, wait at least a half hour before using it.”

Ron, though, used his left fingers to unwrap the wax paper as he drifted, popped it into his mouth. He tasted the artificial licorice, a hint that this was more than a toffee, merely made the solidified potion more palatable. He glanced at the blue shimmering that briefly shone around his hard cock, felt the increased sensitivity, the stiffness did not wish to end, and realized this was a good one. Ron caught the eyes studying the swaying as he started to move, tracked as his shaft swung with his gait, and figured it was best to adopt Harry’s attitude.

“Hey,” said the blond haired Kristi Marshall, her blue eyes surveyed Ron’s hard shaft, before they drifted up to Ron’s eyes. “Heard you did good today.”

“So I heard,” Ron replied.

“You’re the first to show up starkers,” Kristi said, “And—” her eyes drifted back down to the hard cock “—good choice.”

“Um, thanks,” Ron said, before he took a moment to search for a compliment, “Nice dump.”

“You think so?” Kristi said, mug in her hand, leaning in toward Ron, “Not many really appreciate how vital bowels movements are—it’s important to move regularly, otherwise, bad things happen. This one witch came into St. Mungo’s, tried to keep it to once a month, magic it away — oh, was she embarrassed by all the experts that had to stare up her arse to figure out how to help her.”

“I bet,” Ron replied, slightly less interested than Kristi seemed to be.

“Now, if you wrap a bit of mandrake root with the right sort of soluble fiber,” Kristi said, “It’ll pass through in about twelve hours, paralyze your anal sphincter right open, and drain you properly. I recommend it.”

“Think I’ll pass,” Ron replied, her nipples pushed against his chest.

“Yes, think it’s working!” Kristi replied, “Watch!”

Kristi turned around, bent over, aimed her bare butt at Ron as the legs spread, the vulva clearly there as her fingers rubbed her clitoris first. Her fingers moved, worked around the anus, and it dilated.

“Kristi!” Luke snapped, as he stood nearby.

“Latest try,” Kristi said.

“Step back,” Luke warned Ron.

Ron stepped back as the sludge began to push outward.

“Get a tape measure!” Kristi said.

“No,” Luke replied.

Round and large, Kristi’s brown log glistened with shimmering light from the setting sun. Slow and unbroken, it drifted down toward the paved stones of the pool deck beneath their feet.

“Um, excuse me,” Ron said, as he turned away.

Ron glanced at the posh stone to the rebuilt castle, the crash of the ocean could be heard in the distance. He glanced at the bushy haired Hermione and Gia, lounging in a couple of recliner pool chairs, chatting. Ron appreciated Harry’s attitude toward nudity, to simply accept who he was, who people were, when he was surrounded by a sea of bare buttocks, that they were who they were. Ron’s eyes landed, though, onto the other sixteen year old wizard there, Harry held a slice of watermelon between his hands, laughing with Amy, while several seeds were stuck to the hard erection.

“Here,” Amy said, flicked those seeds from the shaft drizzled with watermelon juice.

Harry laughed, grin on his face. His eyes studied hers as she held it, and his personal golden juice flowed out of his slit, he peed with his glans resting in the palm of her left hand. Amy’s right hand gave him a stick chicken kebab. Harry took it, ate, while her left fingers tickled his testicles. Ron’s eyes flickered over, where Oliver Wood was straddling Katie Bell, the hard erection loitered above as Oliver Wood kissed her on the chair, the hands teased the shaved balls. Ron walked over to Oliver Wood.

“Hey,” Ron started to say to Oliver Wood, “Nice idea—”

“Later!” Oliver Wood said, his hand waved at Ron.

“Yeah,” Ron said as turned to see Harry stuffing a cheese fry into Amy’s mouth, both on the edge of the pool. Ron thought about going over, however, Harry’s grin, his eyes, his willingness to eat, all meant he was really enjoying himself, a welcome break from the onslaught of horrid news at Hogwarts, perhaps Harry would stop his slow self–withdrawal from the Wizarding world—this party was definitely a good start.

“Excuse me,” said the voice as a ruler went to Ron’s hard shaft.

Ron glanced at the boy, youthful, about the same age as a first year, with brown hair, starkers and measuring Ron’s hard cock.

“Otis!” snapped Andrew Haslar, coming over, “Back inside.”

“No!” Otis snapped.

Ron glanced, at Otis’ more reasonably endowed soft penis, larger than Andrew’s short erection.

“Inside!” Andrew snapped.

“My biology project!” Otis screamed.

“Bullshit, go!” Andrew snapped.

“Here,” Kristi Marshall said, coming over, she escorted Otis away.

“Sorry about that,” Andrew Haslar said to Ron, “My kid brother—likes poking fun at this.” He pointed to the hard nub.

“We’ve got what we’ve got,” Ron said, “Chaser, right?”

“Yes,” Andrew Haslar said, “Lucky that my Mum saw my first Professional match, against Appleby. One hex in, and I had to play starkers. Well, we won, but ultimately, I lost her.”

“Oh?” Ron asked.

“Apparently she had a dispute with the hitman she hired to kill Dad,” Andrew said, “Now, it’s just me and Otis.”

“My mum, murdered last spring,” Ron said.

“Fred and George mentioned it,” Andrew said, “Dad, well, as you can see, loved a good castle, Otis and I were raised here, so it’s still home.”

“Ta,” Ron said, “Suppose you could have Fred and George whip you up something, have it normal size for a while.”

“A short dick’s who I am,” Andrew said, “Your friend’s having a good time.”

“Yeah,” Ron said, glancing at Harry jousting Amy a few times with his hard cock, “He seriously needed it.”

“Enjoy,” Andrew said. Andrew gave a light pat to Ron’s buttocks.

Ron walked over, to the edge of the pool, came up to Harry, tapped their dicks together.

“Nice, nice,” Amy said.

“Hi Ron,” Harry said.

“You two’ve tangoed before, haven’t you?” Amy asked.

“I’ll neither confirm nor deny,” Ron stated.

“I think I can use two,” Amy said, now holding both hard cocks.

“Sure,” Harry muttered.

Ron admitted to himself that he didn’t care either, she could tease and he was fine, those large nipples ensnared his interest; Ron let her continue teasing his foreskin, his slit with her fingertips. She was hot, played Quidditch, his dick enjoyed her attention.

… 

“There he goes, AGAIN!” Hermione grumbled, her eyes glared at Ron’s hard cock in the fingers of Amy.

“Let em have the fun,” Gia said.

“Hmph!” Hermione said, “You and me were one thing, but you’re letting Harry—”

“Know the difference between cutting them off or letting them embrace this fling is?” Gia asked.

“Suppose you’re going to tell me?” Hermione demanded.

“Tomorrow, they’ll be back with us,” Gia said, “Will they be cheerful for playing, or seething because we spoiled things?”

“You’re—deranged!” Hermione snapped.

“Really?” Gia said, “You know what’s in that toffee!”

“Birth control _and_ disease protection along with a stimulant!” Hermione said.

“Loiter and have fun,” Gia said, “All these hot players, have one bang you, as Ron watches.”

Gia stood.

“Suppose you’re going to—” Hermione started.

“They’re boys,” Gia said, “Don’t expect them to be anything else.”

Gia glanced around at the players, still starkers, the hard cocks jutting outward, or bent in Silvester’s case. She understood how fragile a boy’s ego is about his dick, and how much trust they must lay out in order to parade it around; though she appreciated how much better behaved boys would also be when starkers too. She went over to Fred and George.

“Have you seen Ron?” Fred asked, “Need to keep him out of trouble.”

“Sure….” Gia said, made no secret of her eyes studying Fred’s hard shaft, his pink glans exposed with his retracted foreskin. “Hmmm…”

“Hmmm…what?” George asked.

“Didn’t realize it was longer,” Gia said.

“Mine!” Fred quipped.

“I didn’t say whose,” Gia replied, the mischievousness feeling within her only welled up, deeper.

“Tell us!” George said.

Gia stepped in closer, between them, her fingers curled around their hard shafts.

“Competence in usage matters more,” Gia said, “Mind if I try?”

“You’re his—girlfriend!” Fred said.

“No, not crossing his back,” George said.

“Never said to cross his back,” Gia said, her fingers felt their pubic hair, “More like in front.”

“No,” Fred said.

“Well, another time,” Gia replied, her fingers felt both pairs of testicles before she turned around, left.

“Hey, hey,” said Katie to Gia, “Stanly’s plastered and about to have another.”

Gia glanced at the black haired, silvered eyed young male, hunched over the snack table, his foot long hard cock hovered above the cloth, on both hands, steadying himself.

“Back away,” Stanly Emsworth warned Gia.

“What’s wrong?” Gia asked.

“Nothing…I tried asking St. Mungo’s to cut it off, they refused,” Stanly said.

“It’s a beautiful thing,” Gia said, her eyes surveyed the circumcised hard erection, jutting outward from the crop of pubic hair, the testicles held tightly below, and the slit barred.

“Sure, it _was_ fine, then it grew,” Stanly said, “Realize the agony of persistently sticky, messy, underwear? Or, every commenter saying how it’d be the envy of the world—may they be equally as _cursed_. If they want, they can have it go off anytime, _except_ when you want it to.”

“My boyfriend says the same thing,” Gia said.

“It’s not the same,” Stanly said, “This, I can’t go halfway in, like on you, it has to fully go in, and unless you’ve magic’d your pussy, this ain’t fitting.”

“That’s possible?” Gia asked.

“Dunno,” Stanly said, “Look, this is rather personal.”

“Sorry, you’ve got it out,” Gia said.

“Because it _can’t_ go in,” Stanly said.

“I’d rather see it out,” Gia said, reaching, “Yep, we’d figure something out.” She touched his fulcrum, beneath the slit.

“Fuck!” Stanly blurted.

A surge of white, Stanly began to ejaculate, sending the semen into puddles on the table.

“Still gorgeous,” Gia said, the dick being a dick was a beautiful thing to watch, a moment when the boy isn’t in control, when he must truly accept himself.

“Really?” Stanly asked.

“Yes,” Gia said, her eyes on the white beaded trail oozing out from his slit, “Really.”

Gia held the testicles, kissed Stanly on the cheek. Stanly smiled.

Splash!

Gia glanced over, at the pool, where Luke sank beneath the water, not moving. Gia took the few paces, dove in. She put her arm around Luke, pulled him upward, his back shoulder blades pressed against her breasts, his buttocks against her thighs, as she brought him to the surface.

Spat! Cough! Cough!

Laughter, applause, was around them as she and Luke stood at the shallower end.

“What?” Gia asked.

“He was just demonstrating,” Amy Greystok said.

“Oh,” Gia said.

Luke, though, spun around, held her in close.

“I’ll take a beautiful damsel rescuing me, for a thousand Alex,” Luke said.

Gia laughed, pulled his butt closer until his stiff erection pushed against her.

“She doesn’t mind,” Amy said.

“I don’t even know you,” Luke said to Gia.

“So?” Gia said, “You’re handsome, strong.” She felt into his back muscles. “Yeah, you’ll do fine.”

“You’re worse than she is,” Luke said.

“It’s not an insult,” Amy said.

“You came with a boyfriend,” Luke said.

“Then treat me right and he’ll be okay with it,” Gia said, “Disappointed if you didn’t.”

“You took the toffee, right?” Amy asked as Luke pushed himself out of the pool.

“Yes,” Gia said as she hopped out, straddled Luke.

“It’s got a love potion, makes you horny as a—” Amy said.

“Never mind that,” Gia said, “I’m curious about him.” Her eyes returned to Luke’s, she smiled.

“You’re really interested?” Luke said.

“Boys are…fun,” Gia said, her hands held his hard erection.

“Don’t set it off,” Luke said.

“Why not?” Gia let it slip between her folds, it slid in.

“Yep, she’s interested,” Amy said.

“Ta,” Luke said, “ _Coitus protego!_ ”

“Huh?” Gia asked.

“You won’t finish him, but he’ll finish you,” Amy explained.

“Muggle?” Luke asked.

“So?” Gia asked, her lips went to Luke’s.

Gia felt the confidence in him as she flexed her hips, let his shaft slip, a confidence that Harry was gaining but didn’t yet have, a confidence that made this even more desirable. Luke controlled his breaths, and she understood him to having some experience here, has his fingers worked her skin, worked her buttocks. It’s warmth, with each thrust, worked across that spot, it enticed her, and she began to bear down. Each contraction tried to lure in the seed that wasn’t coming, but still, Gia began to relax, and Luke massaged her skin.

“Better?” Luke asked.

“Hi,” said Harry coming over, Ron next to him, both sporting their hard erections jutting outward, “Doing good?”

“Yours?” Luke asked.

“I’m cool,” Harry said, “When you date a goddess, be prepared to share.”

“Sharing, that’s what you call it?” Luke asked.

Harry knelt.

“Potion or not, she loves teasing boys, and I love that about her,” Harry said, “She also loves exploring, seeing how you do it, and I love that because it makes us stronger. Tomorrow night, she’ll take what she learned from you, give me a few tips, and our sex will be better than ever. So, thank _you_ for helping, teaching.”

Amy laughed.

“They fit right in,” Amy said, “Don’t you agree?”

“Um…yes,” Luke replied.

“You see what I normally use,” Gia said, pulling Harry closer.

“Um, yes,” Luke said, his eyes loitered on Harry’s hard erection, the straightness, the retracted foreskin with the glans bared, and the slit centered between the sides.

“Go ahead, show him everything,” Amy said to Harry.

“Um…?” Harry muttered.

Gia understood, moved Harry to squat over Luke, bare the buttocks, the anus at Luke. Gia, though, felt the pulsing, the extra hardness, of Luke’s hard cock within her, understood Luke’s attraction to this. She pulled out.

“He’s sixteen,” Amy said.

“I’ll need a couple of beers first,” Luke replied.

“Decisions, decisions,” Amy said, “Boys have to make a choice, one shot for the evening. Come here red–haired boy.”

Ron blushed, went over to Amy. She held Ron’s thick, hard, erection.

“You’re not spoiled?” Luke asked, “I mean, your girlfriend—”

“We’ll be doing it tomorrow,” Harry said, “Tonight, something different.”

“Aw,” Luke said, “I’ll definitely need some beers.”

“He’d do it,” Gia said to Luke, “Two for the price of one.”

Gia, though, stood, went over to Hermione.

“There, easy,” Gia said.

“And you did nothing to stop Ronald!” Hermione said.

“You go to the mall, you don’t buy the first outfit you try,” Gia said, “You see what the others have to offer, first. I think I know why the coaches overlook this, encourage it, because it boosts confidence.”

“I’m sure it does!” Hermione snapped.

“And once Ron’s tried them here, he’ll be back with you tomorrow,” Gia said, “I’ve got enough confidence in Harry to know that. They both want something deeper, especially Harry! This, tonight, isn’t that, it’s the lust, let it consume them without guilt, for tonight, your friendship with Ron will be stronger because he will know that you trust him, even if he takes a pass at someone else.”

They watched Ron and Amy walk along the side of the pool.

“It hurts,” Hermione said.

“I don’t really feel that,” Gia said, “Let the anger go, embrace this side of Ron, and you’ll be better off for it.”

“As your boyfriend—” Hermione started.

… 

Harry crouched in front of Katie Bell, near the bushes, his hard erection jutted between his legs toward her.

“Hello,” Harry said, glanced at her parting the labia with the thin strips of buzzed hair.

“Please—in a moment,” Katie said, “Privacy—”

“You’re about to piss—and after practice?” Harry said, his eyes traced the lacy folds of skin to either side of the opening, “I…well, still curious.”

“You’re interested, give you that,” Katie said, her eyes focused as he flared his bare glans.

“Through her, I’ve learned to accept—” Harry said, “Well, just a moment.”

Harry moved his butt, his feet, closer to her, until his hard erection was just beneath her crotch.

“I’m about to—and you’re—” Katie started.

“It’s cool—I mean hot,” Harry said, before he moved his eyes to hers, the ones clearly checking out his hard dick beneath her, “You—always attractive, even on the Gryffindor team.”

“I feel bad, leaving you like that,” Katie said, her eyes returned to his, “Against Slytherin on Saturday, right?”

“Yeah,” Harry said as he ran his fingers down her back, held her buttocks.

“Oliver said you don’t have a prayer,” Katie said.

“All it takes is one rogue bludger to wreck everything,” Harry said, remembering Dobby’s craft from his second year.

“You’ve been cute, all this time,” Katie said, “Handsome, I…” She blushed as the droplets started. “Sorry.”

“Stay right there,” Harry said, grabbed her shoulders, understood her hesitation, “Keep going.”

“This turns you on?” Katie asked.

Harry nodded.

“Oh,” Katie said, “Still—”

“We do as we do,” Harry said, feeling the warm drizzle across his shaft, “No shame in it.”

“You’ve—grown,” Katie said.

“Experience,” Harry said, “I had a good instructor, she…lets say I got used to it, embraced it, and it’s part of me now.”

Harry flexed slightly, to let the hard cock get a uniform shower from her. He smelled the fresh urine as its odor seeped into him.

“Oliver is around here,” Katie said.

“He brought me here,” Harry said, “Curious?”

“Yes,” Katie said, “Gives me second thoughts on quitting, but the proper training schedule can’t handle Hogwarts, not as a student. Teacher, sure, but not a student.”

Katie pulled Harry closer.

“Bit of advice,” Harry said.

“Name it,” Katie said.

“Pee a bit slower,” Harry replied.

“No promises,” Katie said as she pulled Harry over.

Harry glanced at the face, the one he’d seen at practices for years, one who came to see him on multiple occasions in the Hospital Wing. He kissed her, and Katie felt his pubic hair. Harry felt the softening shower on the cock as it tapped on her folds, felt the bristly hairs until he found the lace, and pushed inward.

“Seasoned?” Katie asked, “Your girlfriend?”

“Understanding,” Harry said, “Nice meeting up with you.”

“You too,” Katie said, “I do miss Hogwarts, though.”

Harry began to drill, his hard cock slid.

“Ahem,” Oliver Wood said, as he stood above them.

“Hi,” Katie said, “Just a moment.”

Harry worked faster, held it in as he felt the surge start up, released.

“She’s mine!” Oliver Wood said to Harry.

“She’s not property,” Harry stated before he pulled out, semen clung to his slit.

Harry felt the effects, stumbled to a recliner beneath the black sky, collapsed, fell to sleep.

… 

“So, you’re the youngest?” Amy asked, she was on top of Ron, laying next to the small firepit.

“Was the youngest boy until last April,” Ron said, the light of the flames helped bask everybody in the nighttime, “Our sister is a year younger than me.”

“And your Mum, I heard…” Amy said.

“Killed,” Ron said, “I know, it’s been four months, but seeing it—it could’ve been yesterday, I won’t forget…” A tear flowed down his face as he remembered the thud of her hitting the stone floor.

“Sorry,” Amy said, her hand rubbed his chest.

“Well, they help, Hermione’s—” Ron started.

“Your girlfriend?” Amy asked.

“Yes,” Ron said, “One day at a time.”

“Breathe deep, relax,” Amy said, her hands massaged his balls, his dick, while her soft and voluptuous breasts rested on his chest.

Ron felt the skill in her touch, made him aware that he did have an erection, but skillfully drew away any concern, any reservation that he may have had, made it clear she was more curious about it than anything else.

“Oh…my…” Amy started, her eyes flicked upward.

Ron glanced, strained, but made it out, the two posteriors, both with balls freely hanging, the red pubic hair, as one of the pasty white erections pushed into the other’s anus. From this angle, Ron couldn’t tell if it were Fred or George on top, with the other on the bottom.

“They—” Ron started.

“Are drunk,” Amy said, “Only time I’ve seen them do it before.”

“You have?” Ron said, “Never mind.” He turned his attention to her, because seeing his twin brothers bang wasn’t on his wish–list.

Amy rolled them over, Ron now on top. She arched herself upward, Ron got onto his knees, held her buttocks. Ron glanced down, watched his thick and hard cock push inward, the lace parted to either side of the shaft.

“There we go,” Amy said, “Lets see!”

Ron flexed as he drilled, his hardness slipped. He felt the pressure, the desire, build up. Ron flexed a bit more, as the warmth inside drew it out of him, invited him, and he yielded. He felt the release.

“You couldn’t just say _no_!?!” Hermione stammered, a couple feet away.

“Hermione, I’m—” Ron, startled, pulled back, his hard cock withdrew as the spasms continued, his jet of off–white surged outward, left a trail across Amy’s chest. “I _was_ busy.”

“Hmph!” Hermione said as she stormed off.

“Sorry for the trouble,” Amy said.

“You were fine,” Ron said, standing. Semen swung from his oozing dick as he followed.

“Go away!” Hermione barked, before running into the stone castle.

Ron sat down on the recliner where Harry slept. Ron held his own testicles, stared at Harry’s soft todger trapped in the pubic hair, as Harry slumbered.

“I need your help,” Ron said to Harry.


	57. Sticky

Ash shivered as he was shaken awake on the damp and soggy ground, basked in a green glow that turned the skin green.

“Rouse him!” came the loud voice, eerily familiar, but sounded wrong, “Rise First Years!”

Ash felt it, the warm tongue licking on his todger, the sucking, every nuance of the flesh, the breath that helped keep his testicles warm. Ash had assumed it to be Buck, however, this tongue hesitant, but it stimulated with the sensitivity of Kirkburton’s Senstizing Ointment . Ash felt the spasms, the orgasm, but not the surge. He glanced down, before his eyes locked upon her, another Gryffindor, a girl Ash had seen, but couldn’t put a name to, her face was buried in the hair. Pressure built, it wanted to release, however, the dark patch, and Ash scrambled backward as he stood.

Laughter came, from the tall figure, wearing a Harry Potter mask, starkers body also painted in green light with his circumcised todger and scrotum dangling beneath the dark pubic hair.

“Get him!” came the order.

Cassidy was her name, Ash remembered, the one that latched back on, tugged at the hair. Ash glanced at this black hair, next to the base of his hard erection, and it took Ash a moment to realize this was pubic hair, _his_ pubic hair, hair which wasn’t there at dinner, and now Cassidy was getting the first look at _his_ hair. Ash was a bit perplexed, this girl hadn’t barely done more than wave, once, to him, now was trying to suck him dry; he stepped back, pulled his spasming hard cock out of her mouth.

“ _Depulso!_ ” came the enchantment.

Ash felt the force hit his chest, pushed him backward, his legs spread, over a pit, where he heard the hiss, the rattles. His knees kept moving to his chest, barring his arse, with his dangling testicles toward his classmates.

Hiss! Rattle! Rattle! Rattle! Hiss!

One of the rattlesnakes, fangs bared, bolted straight toward Ash’s crotch, reached an inch away from his loosely hanging balls.

“ _Diffindo_!” the figure shouted, wand aimed toward Ash’s crotch.

Ash recognized the curse, the slashing curse, as it hit the snake that inch away from his testicles, and severed the head. While Ash appreciated the snake being dead, they were laughing as he was nearly castrated, still laughing as they heard, saw his bowel begin to push outward.

Pfffpt! Pfffpt!

“Disgusting,” Cassidy said as Ash began to defecate, falling backward above the pit, in front of a dozen and a half of his classmates.

Ash, of course, used to going starkers, but hadn’t advertised this, always kept this in the loo, with maybe Gale or Buck watching. Instead, this ritual made his arse, his bollocks, his hard erection, and his new pubic hair, the star of the show, all eyes were upon them as his back hit hot coals. Ash’s bowels kept pushing as the hard cock began to jet the gold upward.

Pfffpt!

A puff of flame, his gas igniting, shot out beneath him, to more laughs, while he smelled his burning shit. Ash, though, glanced again at the green figure’s loose circumcised todger, bollocks, and he recognized them, the jagged cut right above the glans, of Seamus Finnigan.

“ _Garrire_!” came the shout

Ash’s mouth moved, but he didn’t recognize the meaning coming out of them.

“Blue,” Ash said, “Fred … Registration … joining … milk … bean … vendors … strap … baseball … quilt … capacity.”

“You know what he sounds like!” came the loud voice.

Laughter, more laughter.

“You’re weird!” Cassidy said.

Ash started to long for home, for Colbert, for Ian, as the heat of the coals worked his skin, but weren’t burning him.

“ _Furnunclus_!” came Finnigan’s shout, the wand activated, and uncomfortable pimples grew along Ash’s shaft, his scrotum, they burst.

“Gross,” Cassidy said.

Another curse, and Ash floated up into the air, into a large pool of water freely suspended above him. He gagged, choked, before he was launched upward. He came hurling back down, on his hands and knees, and felt the convulsions. Slimy slug after slug came out of his mouth, vomiting them onto the ground. Through the trees, Ash caught a glance of Buck climbing onto an equally starkers but screaming Easter.

Boom!

Smoke filled.

“Hump her!” Finnigan shouted.

Ash shook his head.

“No, no,” Cassidy said.

Ash glanced at her, her smooth skin showed the smooth entry way, her vulva, as she rapidly moved her hands over them.

“ _Reptans Insecto_!” Finnigan shouted.

Cassidy dropped to her hands and knees, crawled around, her bare buttocks, and her vulva on display to everybody, she blushed.

“ _Deditionem Amare Reptans_!” Finnigan shouted.

Ash didn’t understand the sudden swelling of desire inside him, he crawled fast, chased Cassidy, his eyes on her butt and that beautiful engorged clitoris. Ash caught up with her, put his hands on her hips, as the others laughed. Ash put his tongue against her hard point, began to lick, his hard cock eager to try it. Cassidy screamed as Ash put his chest against her back, his tip touched her.

Hoot! Hoot! Hoot!

“Shit!” Finnigan shouted, “ _Sanarum menrium!_ ”

It hit Ash as Cassidy twitched out from beneath him. Ash kept crawling as everybody began to run. Inside of five seconds, Ash was alone, a few minutes into the dark forest, and he crawled as he didn’t know what else to do. It felt like forever, until enough curses wore off that he could stand and walk. He could barely see, but kept going.

* * *

Harry felt the chest rub against his back, the pubic hair against his buttocks, the hard cock that was interested, but still against the testicles, not having yet entered; the party was still going and he had already woken back up. Harry felt the hands exploring, the confident male hands that had the touch of a girl, checking out Harry’s foreskin, pubic hair. Luke Sedgwick’s warm breath went across the back of the neck, until Luke’s lips found Harry’s left ear, kissed and licked. Harry laughed, giggled, the inhibitions were still worn away, one drink at a time. Luke’s hands bathed themselves in Harry’s yellow jet as Harry pissed onto the sofa beneath them.

“You’re taking your time,” Amy said, as she watched from nearby.

Luke backed off, slightly, the fingers explored Harry’s anus for a moment, before the hard shaft pushed inward. Their bollocks tapped and bounced against each other’s as Luke drilled, hard, as he repeatedly pushed in and pulled out. Short pubic hair scuffed against his cheeks, until Luke held it in for a moment. Harry felt the pulsing of the shaft currently parked in the anus, as Luke orgasmed.

“A good shot really puckers you out, doesn’t it?” Amy asked Harry.

“It can,” Harry said.

“Nice butt,” Luke said, “Handled it like a pro.”

“Not the first,” Harry said.

“Aw,” Luke said, still on Harry’s backside, “I could sleep like this too.”

“That’d be fine,” Harry said, “Better to sleep with friends than enemies.”

“True,” Luke said, “Care for something for the hangover. Um…I don’t even know your name.”

“He’s the quiet sort,” Amy said, “Likely a secret.”

Harry certainly felt relaxed there as Luke got up, he enjoyed it here, with these folks, they were friendly, and he didn’t want to spoil it with his name.

“Come,” Luke said.

Harry stood, followed Luke, saw the softening penis that had just been up his arse. Harry limped a for a moment.

“Bit late for any more beer,” Luke said, “Besides, how old did you say you were?”

“Sixteen,” Harry said.

“Got school tomorrow,” Luke said, handing Harry a pumpkin juice. Harry grabbed a few chicken wings.

“What’s the big idea Harry?” Fred asked.

“What?” Harry retorted.

“Harry…Weasley…” Luke said, putting it together, “You’re Harry Potter!”

“I know,” Harry replied.

“I…” Luke said.

“You didn’t stop Ron,” Fred said, “Hermione’s in a fit—I thought you were going to shag your girlfriends, not—”

“I shagged who I shagged, Gia’s fine with it,” Harry said.

“Not Hermione,” Fred said, “She’s down the hall, third door on the left.”

Harry sighed, walked. He entered the small guest room.

“You—!” Hermione started.

“I’m sorry, I thought you could handle it,” Harry said, “Heck, you’ve watched Ron bang me—”

“You’re different, so is Gia,” Hermione said, “This is him making out with every—”

“We own _nobody_ ,” Harry said.

“You endorsed it!” Hermione snapped.

“How’s it different?” Harry said, “Ron’s a bloke, just like me, he’s got a dick, which he’s been showing off all day long.”

“Hitting on them, you mean,” Hermione said.

“Be his _friend_ and cheer him on,” Harry said, “It’s his life, and if he wants to share a bit of it with somebody else, great, because we need the friends, especially now.”

“A dick is not a license,” Hermione replied.

“We came here to flirt and have fun,” Harry said, “I can send in George—”

“No,” Hermione said.

“That girl—Amy,” Harry said, “You and her.”

“I—you’re trying to—” Hermione started.

“Help you see things as we see things,” Harry said, “Yes, I let Luke pork me in the arse, but that’ll stay here, at the party.”

“You really believe that?” Hermione asked.

“If you’re friends, why not?” Harry said, “We’re not forcing you to have sex with anybody, you can go out and watch as you wish. But please, let _us_ enjoy ourselves, even if that’s Ron banging one or two girls.”

“He’s done a second one?” Hermione asked.

“I don’t know!” Harry said, “But he may. Let him, and be his friend in the morning.”

“Bad approach Harry,” Gia said, entering the room, Amy with her, “Let us handle this.”

“It’s…” Hermione started.

“She’s interested in judging the boy’s butts,” Gia said, as Harry began to leave, “Interested?”

Harry left, returned to the crowded living room.

“You’re the _Harry Potter_?” asked Stanly, with his foot long erection.

“Sorry Harry,” Fred said, “Talk to Ron…damage control. We’ll get Oliver and Katie to help out here.”

Harry walked back out onto the nearly empty pool deck, a few stars shimmered overhead. Ron sat on the diving board, toes touching the water, his fingers tugged at his curly red pubic hair. Harry sat next to him.

“Some party,” Ron said, “Hermione—”

“You know how sensitive she is,” Harry said.

“I know,” Ron replied.

“She ought to be able to handle it, but isn’t,” Harry said, “Meanwhile, your brothers—”

“Dropped your name, I know,” Ron said, “Fred’s mortified, Oliver had sworn him to secrecy, along with the others.”

“Fred didn’t mean it, but damage is done,” Harry replied.

“What are you going to do about that?” Ron asked.

“Dunno,” Harry said, “It was a gift, like being with Gia at home.”

“You’re going to have to trust them,” Ron said, “If they’re to be our team, you’re going to have to trust.”

“I know,” Harry said, “Still, with the news—”

“This isn’t Hogwarts,” Ron said.

“I definitely know _that_ ,” Harry said, glancing at the naked butts piling up on the table inside.

“Wait and see,” Ron said, “Or do you have a wand for a good old Memory Charm?”

“It’s on my desk,” Harry said.

“Mine too,” Ron said, “We shouldn’t be leaving those behind.”

“I know,” Harry said, “But where do we carry them? Those condoms didn’t last.”

“Maybe in a pinch?” Ron said, “If Hermione’ll talk.”

“Treat her gently,” Harry said, “You’re not smoothing this over tonight.”

“I figured _that_ ,” Ron snapped.

Harry glanced at Ron holding the penis, peeing upward, the jet arching over before it landed in the pool.

“Not everybody will appreciate that,” Harry said.

“So?” Ron said, “I had to go, and you’re supposed to piss in the water, right?”

“Girls want to judge our butts,” Harry said, “Interested?”

“Hermione’ll freak out,” Ron said, “You go ahead.”

Harry got up, returned to the living room.

“Have a spot,” Amy said, “And spread em wide.”

Harry crawled onto the coffee table, next to Luke, both on their hands and knees.

“Hello, again,” Luke said.

“Hi,” Harry said.

“Wider,” Amy said.

Harry moved his knees, spread his buttocks wider.

…

“Are you sure?” Gia said, “Judge Ron’s butt?”

“I’d slap it,” Hermione replied, her face sullen.

“I’ll sleep with you after this,” Gia said.

“I’d like that,” Hermione said.

Gia returned to the living room.

“Ready?” Amy asked.

“Yes,” Gia said.

“Yes,” Katie said.

Anna McKenzie, Kristi Marshall also nodded.

“You only get tie breaker votes on your boyfriend,” Amy said, “Otherwise, judge away.”

Gia glanced at them, boy butt after boy butt, each with their pink and brown anus, each with their todger hanging, their balls loose dangling to show. She realized that should could recognize some of them by this view alone; Harry, of course, however, Fred and George with their red hair were obvious. Silvester’s severely bent dick was still bent, Stanly’s extremely long erection stood out, whereas she could identify Andrew Haslar’s by not being able to see his small penis.

“I’ll need a ruler,” Gia said to Amy.

“What are you thinking?” Amy whispered.

“Give 'em all something,” Gia whispered, “Gotta figure out for what, and gotta inspect 'em all.”

“I _like_ how you think,” Amy said.

“Scale so we can weigh?” Gia asked.

Amy laughed, handed Gia a ruler. Amy grabbed a pad of paper, a pen, from the table, recorded as Gia measured Luke’s testicles. Gia measured the size of the buttocks, the anus, the dick hanging there.

“They’re enjoying this,” Luke said.

“Why else do it?” Amy asked.

Kristi laughed.

Pfffpt!

“Just a moment,” Gia said as she glanced at Fred’s butt. She went to the door. “Hey Ron! Come here.”

Ron stood, walked over.

“What?” Ron asked.

“Can _I_ check a few things?” Gia said, “Over there.”

“Um…” Ron said.

“It’s me, not them,” Gia said.

“Alright,” Ron said, going over, onto his hands and knees, next to Fred.

“Greetings,” Fred said.

Gia measured Ron’s buttocks, his loose testicles.

“What?” Amy asked.

“Well, I wanted to see who got the better deal,” Gia said, “Or the bum end.”

“Hurry up,” said Silvester, “Need to piss.”

“House keeping will take care of it,” Andrew said.

“House keeping—that’s grand,” George said.

“Like the estate’s settled—NOT!” Andrew said, “Until then, have to keep it, as–is. So, it’s as–is.”

“Ta,” Silvester said.

A shower formed beneath Silvester, as his stream hit his leg, spread the droplets everywhere onto the coffee table.

“Good thing it turns you on,” Luke said to Harry. Luke’s jet formed, pounded the wood.

Gia, though, held Ron’s testicles in her left hand, Fred’s in her right, as she tried to weigh the two.

“Trying to be more thorough than a physical?” George asked.

“Why not?” Gia asked as her right hand moved to hold George’s.

“Um…nothing,” George said.

Laughter.

“Hurry up,” Amy said, “I know you want to hold em all night long.”

Gia moved along, measured Oliver Woods’, Stanly’s, and the rest of the butts.

“And now the judging,” Gia said.

She went back, the girls, one at a time, felt each and every pair of buttocks. Gia felt the smoothness, the firmness of Harry’s, better than the others. She stepped back, compared Harry’s to Luke’s, where Harry’s dick was a bit longer, the scrotum just a tad bigger, hanging more a bit lower. Maybe the size did help, she considered, as she mulled it over, it simply reinforced Harry’s quality in her mind.

“By the numbers,” Kristi said, “The smallest is Harry, followed by Luke. Biggest anus, by size, is a tie, Fred, George, and Ron. Biggest arsehole, of course, is Silvester.”

Gia, however, tuned out the announcement, instead, walked past, did as she wanted, felt each pair again. Each pair went up on her fingers, supported, the flesh for a moment, the feel of their testicles through the scrotum on her skin was enticing, she wanted to keep handling them. She glanced at Amy, doing the same thing, while Katie simply held Oliver’s genitals.

“Hermione’s not going to understand,” Ron said.

“Come,” Gia said to Ron.

Ron followed her back outside, to the pool. She sat on diving board.

“Hermione is _not_ me,” Gia said, “Me? I love seeing you boys starkers, I love seeing boys pop a stiffy when I’m around, so long as they act gracefully until I’m ready to play with them. I love playing with boys until they _want_ to bang me, and I love how it feels when they do so. Harry understands this, accepts it, and I accept him doing the same, because I know Harry loves me deeply, wants to sleep with me, wants to be with me.

“Hermione, not so much. She’s—still nervous, but it’s Hermione, the girl you fell in love with. In time, I can work with her, but in the meanwhile…it’s best if you didn’t stray, not even with me for the time being, until you patch it up with her. Understood?”

“It’s not easy,” Ron said.

“It’s not meant to be easy,” Gia said, “Sometimes it is, other times, no. She’s got insecurities, fears in losing you, losing Harry. I’d take them seriously, focus on her, let her know you’re serious about her, or not. It’s your choice.”

“I know,” Ron said.

“As for me, I’m taking Harry to a restaurant tomorrow,” Gia said, “There’s a local hall that’s having their Halloween bash, for teenagers and young adults, I plan to take him along.”

“Have you told Harry?” Ron asked.

“In the morning,” Gia said, “So, that’s my plans. What are yours?”

“Dunno,” Ron said, “Quidditch on Saturday.”

“Too late,” Gia said, “Tend to Hermione **before** then, understood?”

“Yeah,” Ron said.

“It’s way past time for bed, and unless we’re headed home now, I’m going inside,” Gia said, “Good night.”

Gia went inside, saw that her hunch was correct as Katie Bell and Oliver Wood went down the corridor. Gia entered the room with Hermione, laid on the bed.

“What about Harry?” Hermione asked.

“Let somebody else figure out how to calm him,” Gia said, “You’re…my friend.”

Hermione rolled over, held onto Gia, sunk her face into Gia’s shoulder.

* * *

Ash lost track of the time as he kept walking, though he knew not all of the spells and curses had worked themselves out of him, as his balls were warm and very loose beneath his hard erection despite the coolness. His fingers, though, kept exploring the new pubic hair, worked out the knots in it.

Clomp! Clomp!

Ash froze as the sound of hooves surrounded him.

“What is a foal doing out here?” asked the centaur.

Ash took a moment.

“Birmingham … grammar .. locking … happen,” Ash took control from the babbling curse.

“Dark forest is not a good spot to get lost,” the centaur said, “Who are you?”

Ash did not reply.

“Hunts and other creatures will see you as a meal,” the centaur said, “Get on.”

Ash climbed onto the back. Ash’s loose testicles saddled against the hair–covered back, his hard erection laid against it. Brushing of the hair as his cock swayed, Ash began to feel the spasms again, the ones that became painful as his cock refused to let loose, kept the stickiness at bay.

“You’re alright,” Ash said, “I’m Ash.”

“I’m Ronan,” the centaur said, “You talk, so you must have some intelligence.”

“Top of my class,” Ash replied.

“Boastful?” Ronan asked.

“I’m getting the top mark, every essay,” Ash said.

“Interesting magic you have,” Ronan said.

“Huh?” Ash uttered.

“Your—what wizards typically hide beneath their robes, a shame we do not understand,” Ronan said, “Yours asked me questions, I answered, and now you talk.”

“Oh?” Ash said, before he remembered, Harry’s discovery, “That?” Ash blushed a bit, drawing attention there still invoked those feelings of embarrassment he had when he first undressed.

“I appreciate the confidence you’re showing in me,” Ronan said, “I hope it’s well placed. What were you doing out here?”

“Dunno, I was in the castle when I was kidnapped,” Ash said.

“Must have been that prank,” Ronan said.

“It wasn’t a prank,” Ash said, asserting that statement as he was not laughing from it. “Are we going back to Hogwarts?”

“No,” Ronan said, “You were trespassing, you must be judged when the hunt is done. Do not flee, it’s certain death if you do.”

“When can I go back?” Ash asked.

“I do not have that answer,” Ronan said, “Won’t be long.”

A few more minutes, they came to a large fire, two poles to either side, and something was being grilled over it, already well charred.

“Back so soon?” asked Egyle, the Centauride with unsaddled breasts that hung loose.

“A foal,” Ronan said as he lowered his back.

Ash took the hint, hopped off, stood in front of the fire. He felt the warmth on his skin, saw the pinkness of his skin, and the black pubic hair.

“A two leg?” Egyle asked.

“There’s always more,” Ronan said, “Ash, stay here until we return.”

Ronan jumped, leapt out of the clearing, back into the trees.

“Young foal, handsome,” Egyle said, her eyes on Ash, with his hard erection jutting outward, “Strange, not like the others, you have extras, what are you?”

Ash watched her eyes, still absorbed by his body, and his dick agreed as it twitched. He felt the desire, the urge to release, but that remained tight. Instead, the spasms radiated through his body, like the dry orgasms of old, gave him the confidence.

“Wizard,” Ash replied.

“Intriguing,” Egyle said, “Only wizard to show…Harry Potter.”

“He’s my friend,” Ash said.

“Well, friend of Harry Potter,” Egyle said, “You are different.”

“Every wizard is like this,” Ash said, “But we’re supposed to lie to ourselves, cover it up, hide ourselves to ourselves, to others—it’s wrong! Robes aren’t what make me a wizard, neither is a wand, I simply am, and we’re supposed to be ashamed of it but also proud? It’s simply wrong. _This_ is who I am, a boy and a wizard.” Ash felt the pride course through his veins, pride of the very stiff erection, unashamed of the loose testicles hanging beneath it. Watching Egyle survey him, from his nipples, down to his knees, and Ash felt the pride continue to swell in him.

* * *

Gia was woken up some hours after she went to sleep, it was Luke.

“Hey, hey,” Luke said, “Your boyfriend’s—”

“I’ll show you,” Gia said as she stood.

“Um…” Luke said as Gia followed him.

They went to another guest bedroom.

“How many bedrooms—?” Gia started to asked.

“His father was a corporate executive,” Luke said, “Big.”

Gia walked over to Harry, curled up, muttering, teeth chattering, wetting the bed.

“All you have to do is this,” Gia said, as her fingers caressed Harry’s left earlobe, “For whatever reason, it soothes him, but he’ll still wet the bed.”

“He’s Harry Pot—” Luke started.

“Come on, do this,” Gia said.

Luke reached down, worked Harry’s earlobe.

“Sorry,” Luke said.

“What do you see?” Gia said as she sat on the edge of the bed, “A boy, one who’d shed his fame if he could, a boy who wants to be ordinary.”

“Oh,” Luke said as her eyes focused on the naval.

“He wants to be accepted as just Harry,” Gia said, “As a boy who earns your friendship, earns your respect, through his deeds, not his name.”

“I…I hadn’t considered that,” Luke said.

Gia’s eyes focused on the buzzed blond pubic hair, above the soft todger dangling there.

“All he wants is friends, on his own accord,” Gia said, “The others likely had different reasons, but Harry went along with it, didn’t tell you his name, because he was trying to earn that friendship. I mean, you’re definitely familiar with him now.”

“Yeah, about that…” Luke said.

“You asked, right?” Gia asked, “He agreed?”

“Yes,” Luke said, “I didn’t realize he was—”

“You did exactly right,” Gia said, “Don’t do anything different.”

Luke blushed as his erection formed. “I shouldn’t—”

“Can you act like a gentlemen with it?” Gia asked.

“Yes,” Luke replied.

“Do so,” Gia said, “We—like being starkers, and, well, it’s how you handle it that matters.”

“We did get a bit silly,” Luke said.

“And I enjoyed it,” Gia said.

“I see why he likes you,” Luke said.

“And he’ll happily share his toys with you,” Gia said, “Ready for bed? I’ll tuck you in.”

Luke laid down, nestled into Harry’s backside, and Gia pulled the blanket over them.

“You’re something, I think you two deserve each other,” Luke said.

“Thank you,” Gia said, “He’d trade fame for friendship every day, instead of some jackass at Hogwarts ruining it.”

“I’ve heard,” Luke said.

“I’d be more surprised if something didn’t happen there while you were banging him here,” Gia said, “It’s _that_ bad.”

“Yeah, he’s not that dangerous,” Luke said.

“Good,” Gia said, “He’ll want to wake up early so he can get in his morning run.”

“He does?” Luke asked.

“Yep,” Gia said as she left. She returned to Hermione, climbed in.

* * *

Clop! Clop! Clop!

Ash’s eyes turned to the charred hunk on the stake between the two poles, suspended over the fire, before he made out the legs, the arms, and ruptured eyes.

“Wha—what is that?!” Ash stammered, “ _Who_ was it?”

“Relax, friend of Harry Potter,” said Firenze, “A dealer of death does not go unpunished.”

“You’re eating him?” Ash asked, “What about me?”

“We are not carnivores,” Firenze said, “Give me a good bucket of apples and I’m happy. However, we’re not satisfied the dealer won’t deal until he’s been reduced to ashes.”

“You killed him?” Ash asked.

“He killed himself,” Firenze said, “We’re making sure he’s dead.”

“I thought you couldn’t burn wizards,” Ash said.

“Alive, no,” Firenze said, “Once dead, there is no magic protecting their corpse, and so we make sure.”

“That’ll be me?” Ash asked.

“Have you dealt death?” Firenze asked.

“No,” Ash replied.

“A true friend of Harry Potter’s would never,” Firenze said, “But, you were caught trespassing, you will still be judged, that is our law.”

“Oh,” Ash uttered.

“Until a quorum arrive, you must wait,” Firenze said, “Do not wander and think you’d make it safely back to Hogwarts; spiders, trolls, wolves, and other creatures stand between you and there, the odds would not be in your favor.”

“Stay, foals are—” Egyle started.

“No hitting on the foals,” Firenze said.

“He’s so…delicate,” Egyle said.

“Best you come with me,” Firenze said to Ash, lowered himself.

Ash got on, held, as Firenze took a stroll. Ash felt more comfortable than back in the forest, his balls rode on the back, as he held on, watched at the passing foliage. His cock seemed to enjoy it, sent off the dry orgasms, it wanted to explode as it had become accustomed to, but still wouldn’t.

“Your aura comes to me,” Firenze said, “As do the troubles plaguing you. Dark times are coming, where you must choose your path, and you get one chance to make up your mind.”

“What?” Ash asked.

“Do they not teach Divination?” Firenze asked.

“Too young,” Ash said, “Just a first year.”

“Your mare indicated more years,” Firenze said.

It took Ash a moment, to associate _mare_ to his pubic hair.

“Likely hexed,” Ash said, “Not suppose to have it, didn’t start the day with it.”

“Ways of the wizard can be puzzling,” Firenze said.

A shriek deep in the woods, Firenze changed course, galloped. They came to a clearing, a nude girl huddled on the ground, as two centaurs circled her.

“Caught ourselves a hag,” said Magorian, “Tiny one.”

Ash glanced at the long blond hair, the buttocks, the exposed clitoris, and recognized her.

“Tina?” Ash asked as he jumped off Firenze’s back.

“Foal!” Firenze shouted.

Ash, though, brought Tina to stand before him, her lavender eyes on his blues. Ash couldn’t decipher every emotion on her, but the relief, the slight grin, were unmistakable.

“Death Eaters!” Magorian snapped.

“This incursion must stop!” Bane said.

“Explain yourself Ash,” Firenze said.

“She’s…” Ash thought for a split second, “She’s my _mate_!”

Ash wasn’t certain who was more startled or surprised by his declaration, himself or Tina, he glanced at her smiling eyes.

Woof! Woof!

“We must execute judgment—” Magorian started.

“Debate it later,” Firenze said.

Ash, though, wanted to finish what he had promised Tina earlier, held her close, kissed as he let his glans rest against her clitoris. Ash flexed, his hard erection pushed inward, immersed itself.

“Witchcraft, he’s moulting!” Magorian said as Ash felt the hair moving between him and Tina.

Woof! Woof!

A large black dog came bolting fast, collided as the Hogwarts Pin on the collar made contact. Ash’s erection slipped back out as he felt the pull behind his naval, recognized the Portkey. They stumbled as they landed; Tina fell backward, and Ash scrambled onto the desk that Tina now laid. Ash focused on her eyes, again, pushed his hardness within her. He felt it smooth, understood, the same hex that gave him pubic hair, the one that forced him hard, also bound his cock into a dysfunctional state.

“Mr. Hurley!” came the familiar voice.

Ash, though, focused on Tina’s lavender eyes, her smile that told him what he needed to know as he drilled into her, their mutual bond was strong, and she was definitely a mate, as he lost himself into her. Developing breasts beneath his hands, his excited cock unleashed into her as he felt the sudden push, of a curse separating them. As Ash leaned backward, his hard cock aimed above her, he felt the pressure release, the fast pumping, and a bead of off white semen shot out, a fast jet squirted over Tina’s front side before Ash could get back off the desk. Ash took another moment to realize he was in the Headmaster’s office, and Tina was still resting on the Headmaster’s desk, with the Headmaster seated behind it; an Albus Dumbledore that had just witnessed the passion that Ash held for Tina. Ash blushed.

“He’s clearly alright!” said Seamus Finnigan, nearby, starkers with the soft circumcised todger hanging. Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch–Fletchley, Dean Thomas, Wayne Hopkins, and Anthony Goldstein were there, all were starkers with plenty of pubic hair to go around.

“That’s two!” Professor McGonagall said, “There are still five that are lost.”

“To take the First Years into the forest while wearing the mask of Harry Potter—” Professor Dumbledore started.

“He ought to be expelled,” Finnigan said, “We just—”

“Your _stunt_ just lost you credibility Mr. Finnigan,” Professor McGonagall said, “For all your complaints against Mr. Potter—you pulled the exact thing. And to what end? It was discovered at the first bed check!”

“Hazing is not tolerated at Hogwarts,” Professor Dumbledore said, “A particularly bad incident where every first year quit resulted in me becoming Headmaster, therefore, it stopped. A decree from the Board of Governors ratified my position. As to punishments, we will start with you helping out the teachers make up for a lost night of sleep.”

“Mr. Finnigan, Professor Snape needs your assistance, go,” Professor McGonagall said.

“You ought to expel Potter,” Finnigan snarled as he began to leave.

“Straight there!” Professor McGonagall said.

“I need to get dressed,” Finnigan protested.

“You saw no need for it in the woods,” Professor McGonagall said. “GO!”

“Dispatch the rest,” Professor Dumbledore said.

Justin Finch–Fletchley, Ernie Macmillan, Dean Thomas, Anthony Goldstein, and Wayne Hopkins left with Professor McGonagall. Professor Dumbledore trained his blue eyes onto Ash.

“What about us?” Tina asked, now standing there, blushing, next to Ash with his dribbling softening todger still drooling.

“How many curses did Mr. Finnigan perform on you?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“I don’t remember,” Tina said, “A lot.”

“I think they affected your judgment,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I think we can let your behavior slide so long as my desk is clean.”

“Oh,” Ash said as he grabbed the bottle and rag that just appeared.

“I am curious to your adventure,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“I ran into the centaurs,” Ash said, before he began to explain.

“I will send Hagrid when he’s done searching,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“We…” Tina started.

“Was it undesired, unwanted?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“No,” Tina said, “But…”

“You did what you needed to do,” Professor Dumbledore said, “To be in love, there is no shame, just beauty. Good luck, get some sleep.”

Ash started to head for the door when an Owl dropped The Daily Prophet and the fireplace lit up. Bare feet came before the smoke cleared.

* * *

Harry woke to Luke standing there; soft intact todger, hands curled next to the bare hips.

“Good morning,” Luke said, “I understand you run.”

“Um…yes,” Harry said.

“Come on, there’s a path around this place,” Luke said, “How far?”

“A half hour,” Harry said.

“Several laps then,” Luke said.

Harry got up, they went outside. Harry’s head swirled a bit, a bit of a hangover, but not as severe as he’s had before. Two todgers, one beneath blond hair, the other beneath black, swung as they began to run.

“Sorry if I startled you,” Luke said, “I—well, it was a shock.”

“What do you think of me?” Harry asked.

“I…I think I understand,” Luke said, “I signed up for this, so some name recognition happens, you, you were practically born with it.”

“I know,” Harry said, “I was hidden from the magical world growing up because of it.”

“That was…likely wise,” Luke said.

“And rotten,” Harry said, “Hogwarts was…it felt like home for the longest time. Recently—it’s changed.”

Luke stopped.

“You let me fuck you in the arse,” Luke said, “You, not your name, and you can tell a lot, enough to not believe the news. Heck, if you believe that published nonsense, I’m pregnant.”

“You’re not, are you?” Harry asked.

“No,” Luke said, “There may be potions to help, but no, I’m not volunteering for that!”

They kept running.

…

Harry and Luke returned. Hermione was standing there, glaring at Ron, as Oliver Wood pulled his jumper on as he approached them.

“Ready?” Oliver Wood asked.

“Yeah,” Ron said.

“Brooms?” Gia asked.

Harry and Ron ran over, grabbed them, returned. They stepped into the fireplace.

“Hogwarts, Headmaster’s Office!” Oliver Wood shouted as he dropped the Floo Powder.

* * *

Ash watched as Harry came out of the Fireplace, returned to Hogwarts with Gia, Hermione, Ron, and Oliver Wood. Only Oliver Wood was dressed, the rest were still starkers; Ron with his red pubic hair, Hermione with her carpet, and Harry’s familiar todger hanging loose.

“You’re the most rested teacher today,” Professor Dumbledore said to Oliver Wood.

“I don’t think I want to know,” Oliver Wood said, “Good morning.”

Oliver Wood left the office.

“You just want to—” Hermione started, her flashing brown eyes trained on Ron before she made for the door.

“It’s fine,” Ron said as he chased her out of the office.

“And there’s you,” Harry said to Gia as he gave her a quick kiss, her nipples pressed against his chest, “Get ya to school.”

Snuffles bound forward, tapped the Portkey, Gia vanished.

“I hope you had a splendid time Harry,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“I did,” Harry said, his eyes glanced at Ash there, “Loads of Quidditch, and more.”

“Good,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“What happened?” Harry asked.

“Nothing to worry about,” Professor Dumbledore said, “What counts is that you were eagerly fraternizing with Puddlemere United for the past twenty four hours.”

“You—you spied?” Harry asked.

“Spying? No,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I did get a report or two—”

“That—” Harry’s eyes drifted to the The Daily Prophet on the table. He read the article.

Potter’s Halloween Celebration

by Rita Skeeter

Yours truly regrets to inform you that Harry Potter, the Boy Who Regrettably Lived, celebrated Halloween in style, attacking, injuring, and hazing his fellow classmates. Under the pretense of making an announcement, Harry Potter started off his vicious celebration attacking two of his classmates, who, were certain to have been killed if it were not for timely intervention of former crush, fifth year Cho Chung. Dissatisfied with the results, Harry Potter lured first years into the Forbidden Forest to intimidate them into worship him at all costs, or risk his unforgivable wrath. Headmaster Albus Dingbat was in obvious denial of the charges and promptly excused Harry Potter of any wrongdoing by proposing that eyewitnesses could not be trusted, eyewitnesses that were promptly punished.

“That’s what happened?” Harry asked.

“Slander,” Ash said.

“Ta,” Harry snapped.

“As the article stated, there were incidents yesterday,” Professor Dumbledore said, “However, of the few truths she had, Rita Skeeter twisted them into the least favorable article.”

“I see _that_ ,” Harry said, “Still, you’re spying.”

“For somebody with a free willy, you seem awfully concerned about privacy,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“There’s a difference,” Harry stated.

“We’ve got a common foe, best to keep an eye out for opportunities,” Professor Dumbledore said, “And, forgive me, you’re in his interest, still in his plans, so watching you can be … strategic.”

“It’s still spying,” Harry said, “Trying to butt into _my_ life!”

“Spying is not my intent Harry,” Professor Dumbledore said, “You lead your own life, you make your own choices, because we both value that. I’ll only step in if I believe you don’t fully understand the consequences, which is why I made sure you took the time earlier this week, because handling Mr. Riddle is your chief problem, it’ll grow until you can no longer ignore it, and then you’ll be forced to act, to fall or be fallen, that’s what was prophesied, that’s what Mr. Riddle believes, and therefore, it will likely come to fruition.

“So, spying? Maybe. But, alas, watching you has taught me much, that this course you’re on can seem lonely, tough, isolating. So, when Mr. Wood had his idea for you to attend their practice, their party, I gave it my blessing. For you to experience what the Wizarding community outside of Hogwarts has to offer, because Hogwarts isn’t the end of the magical world, it’s just the beginning. So, I dearly do wish you had a wonderful time there.”

“I did,” Harry said.

“Good,” Professor Dumbledore said, “And a good day to the both of you.”

A flick of the Headmaster’s wand, the window opened. Ash got onto the back as Harry mounted his Firebolt, took off.

“Was it bad?” Harry asked as they landed in the sixth years boys’ dormitory.

“It was…well, the masks didn’t fool me,” Ash said, “Masks of you, but I banged Tina on his desk.”

Harry snorted, eyes wide, before he opened his trunk.

“There’s no clothes!” Harry stammered.

He ran over to Ron’s, opened it.

“Nope,” Ron said, coming out of the bathroom, “And hers are gone too.”

“Well,” Harry said as he grabbed his book–bag, “Got Defense Against the Dark Arts, guess Professor Tonks will spend the lesson gushing about my todger. Ash, walk you to History.”

“Later,” Ash said, “I get to sleep a bit.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the dormitory as Ash climbed onto Harry’s bed.

* * *

“All students have been found,” Professor McGonagall said later that morning, “Two are in the Hospital Wing, expected to make a full recovery.”

“Thank you Minerva,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“And you, Albus,” Professor McGonagall said, “All you need to do is have the team interviewed, and Mr. Potter would have his alibis.”

“Yes, I could,” Professor Dumbledore said, “However, Harry needs refuge more than exoneration.”

“Exoneration would restore Hogwarts as a home for him,” Professor McGonagall said.

“In the short term, yes,” Professor Dumbledore said, “But not in the long term. As unfortunate as the consequences are, we must let the plan unfold.”

“Your methods are madness,” Professor McGonagall said.

“So is the storm, a perfect storm is brewing, one that could decimate us all,” Professor Dumbledore said, “There is only one viable path for us to take, to head for the eye of this storm, to hold onto the principles we hold dear, and hope that certain people can realize their roles in saving the ship in time.”


	58. Commitment

Professor Tonks yawned, drunk from her mug, yawned again, that Friday morning. Her eyes stared vagrantly over the students, however, they shifted to loiter on Harry, with the bare chest, the nipples, as he was starkers like Ron and Hermione were.

“Cleaning charm time,” Parvati Patil said.

Giggling.

Ron, though, watched the bubblegum pink robes that complemented her hair, the shifting posture. Ron recognized the changes, similar to what his Mum would do when she was on her feet too long, and he’d have to deliberately pretend like he didn’t know it, that a good cleaning charm would suffice in a pinch when the loo was unavailable. 

“Yeah, she is,” Ron said, seeing a moisture spot form and vanish on the Professor.

“You’d be an expert!” Hermione snapped at Ron.

“Before you go,” Professor Tonks said, groggily, “Please take time to consider your actions before you do something rash.” She yawned. “Class dismissed.”

“Consider it yourselves!” Lavender Brown snapped at Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

“Aw, ever the beast convention,” Malfoy sneered as passed them on the way out, “Suppose Hogwarts could save a few Galleons by cutting the heat, it’s obviously sweltering in here.”

Malfoy fluffed his shirt as a faux cooling fashion as he walked past, left the classroom.

“And you!” Hermione snapped at Ron as they stood.

“Hermione!” Ron protested. His eyes on each nipple to her modest breasts standing erect, tantalizing, his tongue licked his lips.

“Don’t think—” Her eyes upon his stiffening erection above his very loose balls, “That excuses you!”

Ron’s hard cock swayed as they left the classroom.

“Like I could stop it if I wanted to!” Ron said, “You make me stiff.”

“He’s got low standards,” Hermione said.

“It was a _party_ ,” Harry said, “Things were _supposed_ to get out of hand.”

“Oh, you both had _wonderful_ times,” Hermione said, “Just because Gia let _you_ off the hook!”

“She flirts and I skirt,” Harry said, “We both had fun, so did Ron until—”

“Can you make that any more obvious?!” Hermione stammered.

Hermione glared.

“Psst!” came the soft noise.

Ron glanced, Fred was standing in the corner, tried to blend in, however, the colorful Hawaiian shirt with swaying palm trees against a sea of blue gave him away, the untucked hem bunched against the hands in the front pockets; the sternum, the belly button exposed as only the bottom button was fastened.

“Meet ya in the library,” Ron said.

“Go and find another flirt!” Hermione snapped.

Ron stood there, watched her buttocks flex as she walked with Harry toward the stairs. His hard erection remained jutting outward, though his foreskin retracted and his glans flared as his dick twitched.

“Happy to see you too,” George said as he approached, eyes on Ron, “You think it’s warm?”

“Charm,” Ron said, his dick softening, “Thought it’d help.”

“This way,” Fred said.

Together, they found an empty classroom, entered. Ron glanced at George’s red unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt, birds flying above the sunset lit golden beach, with hands saddled into the back pockets. A tinge of red pubic hair visible above the low cut denim trousers, a trail that led up to the similarly exposed naval.

“Bloody obvious, your spat,” George said.

“Really?” Ron asked.

“After you banged their seeker?” Fred said, “Look, if Mum were alive, she’d be sending you—”

“A Howler,” George said.

“Um…” Ron started.

“Even Dad was furious when he heard,” George said.

“You don’t get it…Amy…” Ron started.

“At least you remember her name,” Fred said, “Look, we understand her, she’s rather savage and even got us.”

“We’re not the ones you need to convince,” George said.

“I know,” Ron said, having seen Hermione’s reaction already.

“You’re mature enough to make it up to her,” Fred said.

Fred and George deliberately stared at the soft todger hanging there, Ron did too. Red curly pubic hair above it, the loose hairy bollocks behind it.

“Mum’d be proud of that,” George said.

“I figured that,” Ron said.

“Mum’d be disappointed if you gave up Hermione so easily,” George said, “That’s why we’re here.”

“Hex her? Love potion?” Ron asked.

“Nothing that dramatic, and Mum’d be sending you a Howler for that,” Fred said, “Even though she was scheming with Ginny to slip one onto Harry.”

“Harry’d be pissed if he _ever_ found out,” Ron said, “Even without that, she’s been…”

“We heard what you and Harry did at Charlie’s,” George said, “Ad nauseam, but I think you did right.”

“She banged me!” Ron said, remembering how he woke up to her riding his hard cock, “By surprise!”

“And your stiffy taught her an important lesson,” Fred said, “Very important lesson.”

Ron snorted, though he realized that his todger enjoyed being talked about as it rapidly stiffened.

“Likewise, your stiffy won’t solve your troubles with Hermione,” George said, glancing at Ron’s, “So you need to do a bit more, and that’s where … Dad guilted us into helping.”

“Oh,” Ron said.

Fred pulled his right hand out of his pocket, handed over a box that came out with it, a small red box, redder than the nipples on Ron’s chest. Ron opened it, on red velvet, was a silver ring, raised his eyebrows.

“If you’re serious, you’ll give it to her,” Fred said, “A token of your affection to her.”

“Girls love jewelry,” George said.

“She’s not that cheap,” Ron replied.

“Then make up a story,” Fred said, “Say it was in Mum’s treasure chest.”

“Really?” Ron asked.

“Like Mum had much treasure, you dolt,” George said, “No, the jewelry shop—business is doing good, though we figured gold would be too much.”

“Cheap,” Ron said.

“That too,” Fred said, “Though it’s got anti–theft and an anti–loss charm. It can even take a charm or two from you, for instance, imbue her with a permanent smile.”

“That’s not her,” Ron said, “Not fake feelings.”

“Make it something she’d appreciate,” George said,

“Avoid the gawdy,” Fred said, “I mean, yes, there are ones that’ll let her always see your todger.”

“But it’s your todger that got you into this mess,” George said.

“Yeah,” Ron said, remembering the previous night. In the moment, banging Amy seemed right.

“Avoid your todger too,” Fred said, “Take her on a date, tonight.”

“One where you dress up, not down,” George said.

Ron, though, knew it meant the suit, with his missing clothes.

“By date, we don’t mean overlooking the Shrieking Shack,” Fred said, “A proper restaurant, we can help with the tab, if necessary.”

“What did Dad blackmail you with?” Ron asked.

“Like we’ll tell you,” George said, “Want our help or not?”

“With the tab, yes,” Ron said, “Think I can manage it from here.”

“It’s a package deal,” Fred said, “Think London for the restaurant.”

“Sneak out, you know,” George said, “We’ll bribe the Stationary shop to leave their fireplace unguarded while you and she—”

“Got my own way,” Ron replied.

“Owl, whatever you need, owl,” Fred said, “Dad made this rather clear.”

“Ta,” Ron said, putting the red box into his bookbag.

“Don’t foul this up,” George said, “Think Dad’s after grandchildren.”

“Um…” Ron stopped, he hadn’t thought that far ahead, apart from not having any before he graduated.

Fred and George laughed. 

“Remember, she sees that all the time,” Fred said, glancing at Ron, still starkers, “Get creative.”

Fred and George left. Ron took the box back out, glanced at the ring, realized he had a bit of time until lunch. He grabbed his Portkey from his bookbag, wand, activated it.

“Ron?” Gia asked, she was shuffling through papers on her desk, “I left my homework—”

“Need Harry’s book,” Ron said as he grabbed _The Romantic Wizard_ from the bookshelf, sat cross–legged on the bed as he perused it, the book spine pressed against his curly red pubic hair.

“What are you after?” Gia asked.

“Ideas,” Ron said as he flipped the pages, “You know…”

“She’s fragile,” Gia said.

“I fucking know _that_ ,” Ron said, his eyes flirted up to her in her short skirt and low–cut shirt with no bra beneath letting the nipples protrude outward, “Sure, a jelly legs jinx would make sure she never forgot, but that’s definitely a wrong thing to do. I need a spell…” His eyes returned to the book full of advice, positions, and possibilities.

Gia grabbed the red box, opened it.

“You’re proposing?” Gia asked, her eyes fixed on the silver ring.

“Not that far,” Ron said, “Something like…like what Harry did for you.”

Ron’s eyes glanced at the gold ring on her finger, flipped the pages in the book to the page titled `Vincio Amor', glanced at the handful of charms.

“Knowing Harry…he did the first one,” Ron said, “You’re a muggle, so it had to be strong for you to see the wizarding world. Hermione—we don’t need that.”

“Strong?” Gia asked.

“Yeah,” Ron said, “So long as the love is true, that ring will work between you two. Found it.”

“What did you choose?” Gia said, “Don’t make it creepy.”

“Protection,” Ron said, “About as good as any.”

“You think a ring will smooth things over?” Gia asked.

“A start, not an end,” Ron said.

“Where are you taking her for dinner?” Gia asked.

“Any ideas?” Ron said.

“A few,” Gia said.

“Ta,” Ron said, before his eyes glanced at the white tuxedo hanging from a pair of hangers, the trousers with a missing crotch, “For Harry?”

“I know how _he_ is, so make it obvious,” Gia said.

Ron laughed. 

“Is he starkers too?” Gia asked.

“Yeah,” Ron said, “Our clothes were—missing this morning, so we didn’t bother.”

“I’d love to see _that_ ,” Gia said.

“Hermione’s not taking it well,” Ron said, “Fortunately, she’ll have dresses in her bedroom at her house. Me, well, my suit’s missing too, and I figure it’d be a dress–up sort of thing tonight.”

“No promises, but I’ll see if I can scavenge something up,” Gia said, “Need me to alter it, like Harry’s?”

“Um…” Ron hadn’t considered that, “It didn’t come like that?”

“No, silly,” Gia said, “I find it sexy, and turns me on; also fun seeing him respond to me, you know—”

“Yeah,” Ron said, “Um…sure.”

“Hermione might—” Gia started.

“My todger got us into this mess,” Ron said, “If it helps her, then she can keep an eye on it, too.”

Ron grabbed the ring, his wand, aimed.

“ _Vincio Protego Amor_!” Ron commanded, watched the momentary orange glow over the ring.

“That’s fast,” Gia said.

“Should work,” Ron said, “Well, back to her, see you tonight.”

“Me and Harry’ll take off as soon as he shows up,” Gia said, “After yesterday—”

“Yeah, my focus is her, later,” Ron said.

Ron put the silver ring into the box, put them back into his book bag, grabbed his Portkey, and activated it. A moment later, Ron landed on his four poster bed.

“Hi ya' Ron,” said Ash.

Ron glanced at the boy, hanging with his knees hooked over the edge of top rail of Harry’s four poster, upside down, with the testicles resting in the pouch just above the hard erection.

“Um…” Ron said.

“Uh–oh—” Ash muttered.

Ron moved fast, held both of Ash’s hips as he began to fall. Ron caught the glimpse of pink, the retracted foreskin that had let the glans exposed. Ash, however, squirmed to fall, his legs went onto the bed, twisted as he crawled, stood back up.

“Ta,” Ash said.

“Class?” Ron asked the starkers first year.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ash said.

Ash grabbed his bookbag, walked with Ron to leave the dormitory, went down the stairs.

“I…I went to Hogsmeade yesterday,” Ash said, “My friend got busted, I think he’s mad at me.”

“Have you apologized?” Ron asked.

“Haven’t seen him yet,” Ash said, “It’s not like it’s my fault that Professor Snape—”

“Just apologize,” Ron said, “Decide what’s more important, whose fault it was or your friend.”

“My friend, definitely my friend,” Ash said.

“Enough to take a little blame?” Ron asked.

“Yeah,” Ash replied.

“That’s your answer,” Ron said, “And I’ll be swallowing my pride too.”

Ash left as Ron made for the library on the fifth floor, and he entered with his bookbag hugging his bare buttocks. He stopped as soon as he heard Hermione’s voice, stayed behind the book stack, he glanced at her bare back with her butt on the wooden bench sitting next to Harry, her left hand loitered in front of Harry.

“—better of me,” Hermione said, “Instead, he just—he cheated! With her!”

“A fling,” Harry said.

“You—you’re supposed to be his best friend yet you—” Hermione started.

“I wasn’t going to stop it,” Harry said.

Harry shifted, Ron saw it, Hermione’s left hand curled around Harry’s hard erection, thumb massaged the foreskin.

“Of course not!” Hermione snapped.

“Amy and Gia—they flirt for _sport_ ,” Harry said, “It’s a game.”

“And they won!” Hermione seethed.

“A _win_ is having fun,” Harry said, “A fling with them isn’t serious.”

“Fooled me,” Hermione said.

“I don’t own anybody, nor do I want to,” Harry said, “I see Gia flirt and bang all the time, I see the enjoyment she gets out of it, the smiles on the others regardless of getting laid. Gia’s a kind, generous, soul, she loves everybody. She loves me deeper because I understand who she is; by embracing her flirts and flings, I care about her even more.”

“Good, because you’re starkers with me in the library,” Hermione said.

“Your every dream come true?” Harry asked.

Hermione snorted.

“Of course,” Hermione said, dismissively.

“You fell in love with Ron, right?” Harry asked.

“Obvious,” Hermione said.

“Let him _be_ Ron,” Harry said, “Because, he is a bloke, and his eyes will wander, so, if you’re mad, be yourself and ask him to write you an essay.”

Hermione snorted.

“You’re serious?” Hermione asked.

“Maybe,” Harry replied, his grin as infectious as ever.

“Ahem,” Ron said as he came out of the stacks, walked over to the table, to the other side.

“You certainly took your time,” Hermione said, “Banged Moaning Myrtle?”

Harry laughed as Ron shook his head. Her eyes focused on the stiffening todger, as Ron’s erection grew, directly across the table from her.

“Like that’ll persuade—” Hermione started.

“I’d be more worried if he didn’t,” Harry said.

Though Ron’s eyes caught glimpses from others around the library, he didn’t mind, as sporting an erection next to Hermione was completely appropriate to him.

“Well, if you want to _use_ it—” Ron started.

Hermione snorted.

“Just sit,” Harry said.

Ron sat.

“By the way, Quidditch practice will be canceled,” Ron said.

“You’ve got a match tomorrow, against Slytherin,” Hermione said.

“I know, but you’re more important,” Ron said, “Want to do something this evening?”

“Maybe,” Hermione said.

Harry’s bottle green eyes glanced at Ron’s eyes.

“Do it,” Harry said to Hermione.

“This is more interesting,” Hermione said as she unfolded The Daily Prophet .

“Full of garbage,” Harry said.

“Maybe,” Hermione said.

Ron, though, grabbed the page with a picture of Mr. Arthur Weasley.

Weasley Wizarding Wheezes Awarded Best Halloween Decorations

Mr. Arthur Weasley accepted the award for the best Halloween decorations for Diagon Alley on behalf of his sons, the proprietors of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes . In a comprehensive survey, the display of Harry Potter suspended by a single foot, with entrails spilling out of a slit stomach, were a persistent favorite among shoppers.

“Good for them,” Hermione said, her eyes flickered at Ron.

Ron’s eyes studied her bare nipples, watched as they became more pronounced above the oak table, his todger stiffened beneath it.

“You’re horny,” Harry said to Ron.

Hermione glared.

“You’re beautiful inside _and_ outside,” Ron said, “Nothing wrong with that you know.”

“Let’s see what the Minister is up to,” Harry said, reaching for the paper. Ron knew Harry wasn’t interested, just thwarting Hermione’s response.

Minster’s Magical Halloween

Minister for Magic Victor Fallerschain started his Halloween celebration handing out chocolate frogs to young patients at St. Mungo’s. Victor Fallerschain took time to help young Kevin Stanhoe, seven with a bad case of Thestral Bones, secure his chocolate frog for eating, and assured Kevin that helping is part of the fun the Minister had in what he hopes to become an annual tradition.

“Pandering for support,” Hermione said.

“No, it’s new,” Ron said.

“Muggles politicians do that all the time,” Hermione said.

“So, the Minister picked up a few tricks,” Harry said, “Not surprising.”

“You!” Hermione snapped, her eyes flashed at Ron.

“What?!” Ron stammered, took his eyes away from her, glanced at Harry, with some hairs on his chest. Harry’s bottle green eyes fixed onto Ron’s, the twitching betrayed Harry’s irritation.

“The Minister visited Kent Quidditch Academy,” Harry said, “Hear this.”

Minster Creating Audit Department in Ministry for Magic

Minister for Magic, Victor Fallerschain, while speaking at Kent Quidditch Academy’s Halloween Feast, announced that he is creating a new department in the Ministry for Magic dedicated to rooting out waste, fraud, and abuse, which will save you money. Already they have uncovered an embezzlement scheme in the maintenance department, the culprits have been fired and charged, they will be prosecuted by the Wizengamot in the near future.

“So, they’re hiring auditors? Like that’s a big deal,” Ron said.

“Ministry needs to be cleaned up,” Hermione said.

“Not that again!” snapped Neville Longbottom, nearby. Ron glanced, Longbottom’s eyes were on Luna Lovegood.

“Shh!” Lovegood hushed at him, “Bob is trying to sleep!”

Eyes went to her, with her floral skirt showing, with a bottle in front of her on the table, a bottle with chynky white spoiled milk with dark green bacteria growing in the neck.

“Bad place to _sleep_!” Seamus Finnigan said as he came into the library with Dean Thomas and Wayne Hopkins.

Ron stood and his hard cock loitered above the table as he faced Finnigan. Loose balls dangled freely beneath the red pubic hair, Ron’s eyes were more focused on Finnigan’s.

“Good thing I’m not on the team,” Seamus Finnigan said, “Canceled practice — why bother, we don’t have a chance, do we? Though I suppose if I adopted the uniform—” His eyes surveyed Ron, with the bare feet, the bare chest, before going to Hermione with her breasts on display, and Harry still sitting to the other side of the table.

“You wouldn’t happen to know why our wardrobe disappeared?” Harry asked.

“That’s your excuse?” Seamus Finnigan stammered.

“No clothes, no dress,” Ron said, “As to my todger, stiffies happen.”

Ron felt no shame, simply pride as the eyes flickered, stared for the moment at the hard erection that was still jutting out of him, the retracted foreskin left his pink glans bared with its moistened slit holding onto a small strand to a suspended droplet.

“Disgusting,” Seamus Finnigan snapped.

“She likes it,” Harry said.

“Will showing ours protect us from a beating?” Wayne Hopkins asked, “Maybe if Ernie and Justin—”

“At least they’ll recover, _this_ time,” Seamus Finnigan said, “I was about to place a wager on your expulsion, but I realized, that’s not going to happen, is it? You’ve got Bumbledick in your hands, right? Good Imperius curse, we wouldn’t suspect that, right? Or, maybe he just likes your smooth skin as you let the old man bang you? Whatever your method, you’re succeeding, because the esteemed Headmaster tried to extort a different story out of them, to excuse _your_ misbehavior. Our lives, our safety, and our well being are in danger so long as you’re here.”

“Ron,” Hermione said as she rose and quickly gathered their parchment, books, ink, quills.

“Excuse me as I have to go to take a dump on your bed,” Ron said, politely, “Because you’re full of it and wouldn’t know the difference.”

“You’re reading that, again?” Neville Longbottom asked Luna Lovegood.

“It’s high informative,” Luna Lovegood said with an upside down Quibbler in her hands.

Ron, though, grabbed his bookbag. Him, Harry, and Hermione left the library.

“It was about lunchtime anyways,” Ron said.

Ron got his Firebolt out of his bookbag, mounted it. Hermione got on behind. Harry mounted his, and they flew out the window. Slivers of blue sky allowed some sunshine through the clouds, Ron felt the buffeting of the wind picking up, steadied it. Hermione’s fingers dug into his abdomen as she held tighter. 

Pfffpt!

“Pardon,” Hermione said.

They flew into the dormitory, landed. 

“Ron wants you to fart again,” Harry said.

“Animals,” Hermione snapped.

“We’re starkers,” Ron said, “Best kind…in fact…”

Ron went over to Seamus Finnigan’s four poster, pulled the covers back, squatted.

“No way,” Hermione said, “He’s already—”

“Shitty,” Ron said.

Pfffpt!

Ron felt the urge, started to release.

“She wants a better view,” Harry said, “Here, use this.”

Harry grabbed the old chamber pot from beneath the stand with the water pitcher, brought it over.

“Harry!” Hermione snapped.

“She does,” Harry said, “On his bed won’t work for her.”

“I—” Hermione started.

Harry whispered into her ear.

“Chamber pot,” Hermione said.

Ron moved backward, feet to the floor, spread knees against the bed, bent forward, and heard the chamber pot slide until he saw it beneath his rear. Ron relaxed, let his muscles do their thing.

Pfffpt!

Brown dropped between his legs, Ron watched it drop into the pot. A couple more chunks, and he stopped. Ron felt the cleaning charm, stood back up.

“You liked that!” Ron exclaimed.

Hermione shook her head.

“We’d do ourselves no favors by doing that,” Harry said, “We’ve got to be better than them, period.”

Hermione nodded.

“Oh,” Ron said, now feeling cheated.

“I want to do that too,” Harry said, “It’d just be fuel to the fire.”

Lunch appeared on the table. Ron walked over, grabbed the chicken, ate.

“What was this brilliant plan of yours?” Hermione asked.

“A date,” Ron said.

“You and Seamus?” Hermione stammered.

“You and me, tonight,” Ron said.

“I’ll leave you two be,” Harry said as he went to sit on his four poster bed, “I’m guessing a first year’s been sleeping on this.”

“Yeah,” Ron said.

“Figured as much,” Harry said.

* * *

Ash heard the growl of the stomach from Buck, as they walked down the stairs. Ash glanced at the scarlet tie with thin yellow diagonal stripes, the Gryffindor tie hanging from Buck’s neck, the only thing on him as the soft todger swung with their gait.

“Gale’s not talking to me either,” Buck said.

“Lunch?” Ash asked.

They entered the Great Hall, walked over to the Gryffindor table, to the side next to the Ravenclaws, walked along. Tina was already sitting at the Gryffindor Table.

“You’re a Ravenclaw,” Buck said to Tina as he sat to her right side.

Ash, though, stopped to her left, watched her lavender eyes survey him. She leaned back a bit, he saw the hard point, her clitoris, her vulva sitting against the bench. Her eyes fixed themselves onto his todger, she watched as it stiffened. She smiled at his hard erection, and Ash sat down next to her.

“Tables are warded, but not heavily warded,” Tina said, “It checks your clothes, so Buck’s tie here counts. Me, Ash, aren’t checked, we could sit at the Slytherin table. Otherwise, if you invited me to sit, that’s fine too.”

“You’re invited,” Buck said.

“I know,” Tina said, she smiled.

Ash’s right hand slipped down, he held her pelvis, glanced at her grin, and his thumb began to work her clitoris.

“Remember,” Buck said, “ _Good_ behavior.”

Ash, though, felt the initial roughness before her fingers settled in, and became stimulating, a slow pace, one to remind and assure, not enough to trip his dick to go to the next step.

“This _is_ good behavior,” Tina said.

“You’re both playing _doctor_ ,” Buck said.

Tina’s rubbing left Ash not caring, instead, Ash wished this was normal. Each touch of her fingers reminded him that Tina was a good friend, and Ash was happy for it as the food appeared on the table. Tina’s right hand scooped macaroni and cheese to her plate, she grabbed a fork, loaded it up, and brought the food to Ash’s lips. Ash ate it.

“Here he comes,” Buck whispered.

Gale entered the Great Hall, the partially aroused penis swayed with the gait, until he stopped between the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables, stood sideways.

“Gale!” Buck said.

Gale, though, remained quiet, stood still, his hands against his bare buttocks, the nearly stiff todger with the chisel point foreskin jutted forward, though his balls were hidden.

“Gale?” Ash whispered.

Gale, kept his head down, shook it, and sat at the Hufflepuff table, his back with the shoulder blades toward Buck, Ash, and Tina.

“He’s mad,” Tina said.

“Really?” Buck snapped.

“We…it’s understandable,” Ash whispered.

Ash reached for a sandwich, felt her fingers caressing the hard cock beneath the table as he ate. With the teasing of his testicles, Ash felt a bit better, studied Gale’s shoulder blades moving, the spine of the bent back, of his friend who Ash held sympathy for.

“Well, detention would’ve been better than…” Tina said, drifted off.

Ash knew what she was talking about, he had heard what happened to her too. He felt it too, as her hand held on, and he sensed the assurance it was giving her to hold his balls. That it was mildly stimulating was nice, but the assurance she gave him was more important as they were good friends, and good friends were best starkers together, available, open, honest.

“What are _you_ doing here?” Easter asked, on the Hufflepuff table, glaring at Gale.

“I…” Gale stuttered.

“She needs help,” Tina said, moving fast. Tina dropped to the floor beneath the Gryffindor Table, crawled over.

Gale got back up, with his rounded bare buttocks toward Buck and Ash, before he moved fast out of the Great Hall. Tina sat down with Easter, while Buck and Ash ran toward the exit. Buck and Ash chased Gale, who broke into a run.

Pfffpt! Pfffpt!

“Gale!” Buck shouted.

Gale, however, went fast, past the kitchens, tapped the barrels, and ducked into the Hufflepuff Common room. The barrels drew the passageway closed before Buck and Ash could get in.

“Damn!” Buck exclaimed.

“He’s still pissed,” Ash said.

“Of course!” Buck said, “And you’re still horny!” His eyes went to Ash’s hard erection.

“Like I can be anything else!” Ash retorted, traced the tie to the end where it threatened to eclipse the soft todger in front of the two loose lumps hanging in the scrotum.

“Let’s…” Buck drifted off, turned.

Ash watched the buttocks flex as he followed Buck. Ash thought about the stiffy he was sporting, the one swaying with every step in his gait, and now considered it healthy to show it off. Better to have it seen than to bind, to contort, to hide it beneath a pair of underwear. Ash suddenly wondered what it’d like to go home, whether he’ll go home starkers, and how Colbert would respond—likely taunt, and it wouldn’t matter if Ash were dressed or not, the taunts would happen. Go starkers, and Colbert couldn’t even pretend that Ash was a girl.

“Outside?” Buck asked as he pushed open the door. They went outside, a sliver of sunshine followed them to the lake. Buck stopped, picked up a stone, tossed it, and it skipped a couple of times before sinking in. Ash sat, butt to the cool grass, feet together. “Gale…”

“He…” Ash caught Buck’s brown eyes. Ash spread his legs apart, the hard cock jutted free and clear. “Better?”

“Yeah,” Buck replied, the eyes stared.

Ash now appreciated that showing Buck the hard dick put a smile on his friend’s face, and it felt good. Ash watched Buck’s slender shaft stiffen.

“He felt betrayed,” Ash said, “Likely better than the forest—you fucked Easter?”

“I had to,” Buck said, “I heard about Tina.”

“So did I,” Ash said, “She—we’ll be extra nice to her.” He had heard it too, she had to seduce one of them, take them into her.

“But Gale is of our own making,” Buck said, “Watch out.”

Ash didn’t move, simply watched the yellow drizzle begin out of Buck’s penis, the jet poured out of the slit, and Buck peed.

“We need to apologize,” Ash said, “But, we can’t exactly go to Hogsmeade to buy him something.”

“Like we can buy him,” Buck said, “Um…just tell him we’re sorry?”

“He won’t see…” Ash started, before he had an idea.

* * *

Ron and Hermione landed that afternoon in her bedroom, in Noigate.

“If you excuse me, I need to get dressed,” Hermione said.

“You’re starkers!” Ron said, they both were.

“I mean it,” Hermione said.

“Mine’s over at Harry’s,” Ron said, activating the Portkey.

“Hi,” Gia said as Ron landed in Gia’s bedroom.

“Your suit—” Harry said, pointed as he slipped into his white tuxedo.

Ron glanced at the velveted maroon red suit, hanging on the hanger, the red matched his hair.

“Um…” Ron said.

“Remember, you’re trying to woo her,” Gia said, as she handed him a bottle of cologne, “So long as _she_ likes it, you’re fine.”

“Yeah,” Ron said as he applied the cologne. He didn’t particularly care for maroon, because it reminded him that he’s a Weasley.

Ron glanced at Harry, now in his white tuxedo, white that contrasted with the black pubic hair above the long todger and testicles dangling out of the missing crotch, and wearing a bottle green bow tie. 

“I understand she did yours like this too,” Harry said.

“I…I don’t know what I was thinking,” Ron said, admitted to himself that he was winging this.

“Harry’s more comfortable and I like to tease it,” Gia said, “However, I think it’ll be different for you and Hermione.”

Ron put the trousers on, felt the breeze as his balls slipped out of the similar hole in his crotch, the soft todger was loose. 

“She—like I need to say it,” Harry said, “In the end, that’s the right choice.”

“Ta,” Ron said, “You like looking too.”

“You’re my best friend,” Harry said, patting Ron on the back, “Of course your dick’s a good sight.”

“Before you bang him,” Gia said, “I remind you that he’s dating Hermione tonight.”

“Of course, of course,” Harry said, “Get ya later Ron.”

Maroon shirt, the matching bow tie, the suit jacket, the socks and shoes, Ron stood there.

“Looking good,” Gia said, she glanced at the pubic hair, “Definitely good. Reservations and directions are in your pocket.”

Ron felt the paper, put the small box into his suit jacket pocket, activated his Portkey. A moment later, Ron landed in the foyer to Hermione’s house.

“Good evening,” said Charles Granger, standing in his own gray suit, “You’re here for Hermione, right?”

“Yeah,” Ron said.

“Date?” Charles Granger asked.

“Yep,” Ron said, “Got into a bit of a rough spot, need to work it out.”

“Do so,” Charles Granger said, “You’re not the only one.”

In a white dress with large blue flowers, Linda Granger entered the living room.

“You look lovely darling,” Charles Granger said, “Care for a dance?”

“That’d be lovely,” Linda Granger said, “You kids, behave yourselves.”

“I’m not—” Hermione started as she came down the stairs.

“You’re a generation younger than me,” Linda Granger said, “To me, you’ll always be a kid.”

“My baby daughter,” Charles Granger said, “Good luck Ron.”

Charles took Linda’s hand, she grabbed his elbow, and they left the house. Ron, however, glanced at Hermione, in a yellow dress, with yellow sandals beneath, the upper piece was strapless, shoulderless, brought emphasis to her breasts as both were bare with only small bits of cloth covering her nipples. Ron’s todger stiffened, firm. Hermione glared.

“Your beauty does that to me,” Ron said, “No shame in that, is there?”

“You just _had_ to show that off!” Hermione said.

“It got me into this mess and it’s needed to get us out of it,” Ron said, “It’ll hang out so _you_ can keep an eye on it, witness it, or not, as you wish. I’m not going to hide it from you, alright?”

“I saw it all day long,” Hermione said.

“One more thing,” Ron reached for her chest, removed the bits over her nipples, bared them, “Better.”

“You just had to—” Hermione started.

“Lets go,” Ron said.

“Surprise Harry’s—” Hermione started.

“Tonight’s about us, not him,” Ron said as they left the house.

“Oh,” Hermione muttered.

Ron decided that his todger ought to stay up, he’d have to keep his mind focused.

“I’m…I’m sorry I broke your trust,” Ron said to Hermione.

“An apology?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah,” Ron said, as they walked along.

“Where are we headed?” Hermione asked.

“A place,” Ron said, “Got reservation and a recommendation.”

“You—you couldn’t have planned it all out,” Hermione said.

“You underestimate me, Hermione,” Ron replied.

“There’s no denying what’s on your mind!” Hermione said, her fingers pointed to Ron’s hard erection.

“Of course _that’s_ on my mind!” Ron said, as they stopped, “You, a friend I’ve known for years, a good friend, beautiful inside and out, I’ve explored that beauty, I know what’s there, and so of course I’m interested! To dress up, that’s your idea. To me, your skin’s all that’s needed, because its beautiful, it reminds me that you are my friend, it reminds me to treasure you.”

They resumed walking.

“You had other ideas last night!” Hermione snapped.

“I’m a bloke and she—sorry, I couldn’t resist her,” Ron said.

“Obviously not,” Hermione said.

“I guess the question is…” Ron stopped, faced her, “Do we want to still be friends?”

“Are you—?” Hermione started.

“Asking the question, same as Harry’s been having,” Ron said, “Is this all worth it?”

“I…” Hermione stuttered.

“If it is, lets move forward, together,” Ron said, “You know where I stand on this—” His right hand cupped her breast with his thumb on her erect nipple. “But, the question, Hermione, is where do you stand? Think about it.” Ron rubbed her breast before he kept walking, his loose balls swung with his gait.

Hermione kept glancing at Ron as they walked, in the maroon suit, with the pink glans exposed around the retracted foreskin, his slit bared, one that began to pee on the road as they waited for a light to change.

“Ron!” Hermione snapped.

“Better here than the restaurant,” Ron said, nonchalantly, “Besides, I’m not hiding it from you tonight, you’ll know when I piss.”

“Animal,” Hermione said.

“Like it?” Ron asked as they walked across the road.

Ron glanced at those bare nipples, both erect, standing firm, as sun through the cracked clouds skirted past them. They came to Palace of the Imperial Garden Dragon , and Ron held the door open for Hermione.

“This is—” Hermione started.

“Don’t worry,” Ron said, fiddling with the credit card in his pocket. He didn’t like taking money, especially from Fred or George, however, Ron did admit, this was an emergency. They entered.

“Table—” Hermione started to say to the elderly Chinese man in a black suit.

“Reservation for Weasley,” Ron said, “With her.”

“This way,” the man said, carried two menus.

“Since when did you—?” Hermione started to ask.

“Lets go,” Ron said, offered his elbow. Hermione grabbed it, they went to the back, into a private room with a low table. “I felt it ought to be authentic.” Ron knelt, his hard cock jutted outward above the table level, sat with his butt on his feet, waved Hermione to the other side of the table.

Hermione sat, cross–legged, across from Ron. Ron’s eyes saw the carpet, the vulva, indicating that Hermione skipped knickers.

“Would the gentlemen and the lady like a drink?” the waiter asked.

“Firewhiskey,” Ron said.

“Before you get arrested,” Hermione said, “Tea would be fine for the both of us.”

The waiter left.

“You know, I _can_ plan ahead,” Ron said.

“Just like you’re planning—” Hermione started, her hands went to pull her skirt over her crotch.

“I was fine with it,” Ron said.

“Of course you are!” Hermione snapped.

“You don’t need some dress to be beautiful,” Ron said, “I mean, need me to hide this?” Ron pointed to his hard cock.

Hermione shook her head.

“Good, because I _want_ you to see it,” Ron said, “I do love you, that hasn’t changed, even if I do stray from time to time, I … love … you. Look at my dick and you’ll know it’s true.”

Hermione stared at Ron’s hard cock, the glans flared, the slit exposed and pointed toward her.

“You’re acting nervous,” Hermione said.

“I’m laying myself bare, wide open,” Ron said, “Yeah, I’m nervous you’ll reject me.”

“That…” Hermione said, “I’m not planning on it.”

“Good,” Ron replied as he saw her eyes focus again on his loitering stiff erection, “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You meant it when you said you wanted me to see it, all night long,” Hermione said.

“I do,” Ron said, “You’ve had fun with it, right?

Hermione nodded.

“That’s what matters there,” Ron said, “And…I figured the reminder would do us both good.”

Hermione snorted.

“You’re trying, aren’t you?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah,” Ron replied, he hand waved his hard cock and watched the smile form on her face.

The waiter returned with a tea pot, tea cups, placed them onto the table.

“Can I have a fortune cookie, to start?” Ron asked.

The waiter nodded, returned a moment later.

“You can’t wait?” Hermione asked Ron.

“Your order will be ready soon,” the waiter said, before he left.

“We ordered?” Hermione asked.

“Arranged for,” Ron said, knowing it was Gia who made the preparations, made the call.

“Who are you and what have you done with the real Ron Weasley?” Hermione asked.

Ron shook his hard dick, held his balls.

“Alright?” Ron asked.

“You’re starting the meal off with—” Hermione started.

“Luck,” Ron said, as he held the fortune cookie in his left hand, slipped his right hand into the jacket pocket, and focused. “ _switcho_ ” he muttered as quietly as he could.

“What are you—” Hermione started to ask, until Ron handed her the cookie.

“Just open it,” Ron said.

Hermione broke the cookie open, the simple silver ring tumbled out. Her eyes glared for a moment, studied his.

“You aren’t—” Hermione started.

“Something different,” Ron said.

“I wasn’t expecting this,” Hermione said.

“A ring of friendship,” Ron said, “I love you, I care for you, but we’ve had some tumbles, and I felt some assurance, to you, was appropriate.”

Hermione tested the fit, the ring resized itself to fit snuggly. She raised her eyebrows, took it off.

“I used the _Vincio Amor_ enchantment on it,” Ron said, “It binds us together in a promise to each other. So long as you choose to wear it, it cannot be stolen, cannot be lost, protects your virtue, and alerts me if you’re in danger. Not as strong as what Harry did.”

“Just what did Harry do?” Hermione asked.

“He used the first one, the only one that would permit her to experience the Wizarding World as we do,” Ron said, “It binds them together, either both stand or both fall.

Hermione rose rapidly.

“He likely ordered Sirius to stay away,” Hermione said, “It’s even more dangerous—”

“Think for a moment, please?!” Ron said, he tugged gently, and Hermione sat back down. “Until we see Death Eaters marching down the street, Harry can handle anything that might come up.”

“I wish…” Hermione started, her eyes rested back onto Ron’s hard cock jutting upward and outward between his parted legs. “You’re not going to stop, are you?”

“No,” Ron said, “I promised full exposure, so you’re getting full exposure.”

“What else did you charm?” Hermione asked.

“Just the ring,” Ron said, “As to my stiffy, I do have to see your…erm…booty, to keep it up, so you know it’s true when I tell you I love you.”

“You don’t have to,” Hermione said.

“Yes I do,” Ron replied, “If you’d like, I can pee into your tea.”

“No thanks,” Hermione said.

* * *

“You’re mad,” Buck said.

Ash glanced at the torn shirt on the floor, the Hufflepuff emblem in his hand.

“I’m giving it a go,” Ash said.

“Good luck,” Buck said, “I’ll be back in the dormitory, lemme know how it turns out.”

Buck turned around, left. Ash, however, waited a few minutes, hid behind a few surplus barrels at the end of the corridor. Gale emerged from the kitchen, carried a waffled ice cream cone, tapped on the barrels, entered. Ash figured it was best to not follow immediately, instead, he waited until a third year Hufflepuff boy approached, tapped on the barrels. Ash moved fast, behind, as the boy entered; Ash held the badge firm, the barrels waited to close behind. Gale stood by the fireplace, buttocks toward the flames, the ice cream dripped a drop of white down onto the soft penis dangling between the legs.

“Oh,” Gale said, glared at Ash

“I can go,” Ash said.

Gale’s expression didn’t change, neither accepted nor rejected Ash’s proposal. Though there were a couple of others in the common room, Ash’s desire for friendship overrode his shyness for a moment.

“I came to…” Ash drifted as he sat on the plush chair.

Ash spread his legs as he leaned back on the chair. His eyes were on Gale, waffle cone in the hand, licking the scoop of ice cream. Ash admired the friend he wanted to keep, the belly button, the sideway stance that made the loose todger more pronounced, the scrotum with the heirlooms dangling beneath, loose and warm from the fireplace.

“I’m sorry,” Ash said, “I didn’t want you to get into trouble.”

“Each frog eye had to soak in a spoonful of pee,” Gale said, “Professor Snape watched me pee! Over and over again.”

“I’ll watch,” Ash said, eyeing the smooth finger of flesh hanging off Gale’s crotch.

“You’re different,” Gale said, as he studied Ash’s stiffening dick, “Very different.”

“Ta,” Ash said, dreading the thought of ever being the _same_ as Professor Snape, “And I am sorry for it.”

“I know,” Gale replied.

Gale stood there, eyes fixed on Ash’s hard dick, the one soaking in the heat from the coals, the one that Ash felt no need to hide, the one that Ash was now proud of to to stay there, jutting upward for them both to admire.

* * *

Ron read the paper, the note in his pocket, the one with directions after he and Hermione left the restaurant. He deciphered Gia’s handwriting, went along High Street, Commercial Street until Oxford, where Ron led Hermione up the stairs into Noigate’s Victoria Ballroom. Her hand gripped Ron’s elbow as they passed the threshold Of the double doors that gave way to the modestly vaulted ballroom within. Above were two ornate unlit chandlers, instead yielding their role to the many Fresnel lights hitting the disco ball suspended in between the two, the probing glimmers skipped and danced about the room.

“A dance?” Hermione asked.

“Noigate Youth—something a rather,” Ron said, “Maybe Halloween a day late?”

They both saw the many costumed youth, some witches, some fairies, and some playboy bunnies.

“Well, think they’d mind if we became starkers?” Ron said, “I think we’d blend in.”

“Because it’s not civilized,” Hermione said.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Ron asked.

“Try it,” Hermione said, “You’d—oh no!”

Ron caught her eyes, gazed across the room, and recognized the adult chaperons, her parents.

“We’ll avoid them,” Ron promised.

“You’re mad,” Hermione said.

“Well, suppose you could ask them to leave,” Ron said, “Come, lets go in.”

“In a moment,” Hermione said, “Catch up to you.”

Ron caught sight of her running toward the ladies room. Without her around, his todger began to sink, soften. He walked through the crowd.

“Hi Ron.”

Ron caught sight of Gia, in an orange dress. The strap around her neck wrapped beneath her breasts, the voluptuous mounds with the nipples pulled upward with ample support. Orange mesh cloth wrapped her torso, but was missing the front center, her clitoris, her vulva, fully exposed. She glanced at Ron’s todger stiffening back up.

“Careful not to drool,” Gia said.

“There’s no denying…” Ron’s lust surged, he wanted to.

“Where’s Hermione?” Gia asked.

“Ladies room,” Ron said, “Mind talking with her?”

Gia went over to it. Ron, however, went for the bottle green eyes with his matching bowtie in a white tuxedo. Harry’s stiff erection jutted out from the similar hole in that crotch, the loose testicles dangled.

“Hi Ron!” Harry said, “Careful,“ he glanced at Ron’s stiffy, “Hermione’s already pissed off.”

“I know,” Ron said, “I’m not pushing her.”

“Hey,” said Jen as she and Richard came over. She was in a dress, while he wore a blue sports jacket over the blue shirt and blue trousers.

“Hi,” Harry replied.

“Interesting choice,” Jen said, as her eyes traced their hard erections jutting outward from their crotchless trousers, “Um…” Her eyes compared the two, side by side.

“I run starkers, but that—” Richard said, “It draws attention.”

“Gia loves seeing it,” Harry said.

“Hermione—she needed to,” Ron replied.

“It’s just over _my_ line,” Richard said.

“Jen wants it,” Harry said.

Jen nodded, Richard blushed as he shook his head.

“I know he has the balls,” Jen remarked.

Harry grinned.

“What the—” Richard stammered as the floor began to shake.

“Dudley!” Harry snapped, his eyes went wide, tracked to the other side of the ballroom.

Ron traced Harry’s gaze, only enough to be sure that the dancing whale was indeed who Harry was referring to as Dudley. Overgrown and dressed up in his Smeltings uniform with a busted seam, Dudley rattled the windows as he wobbled on his feet.

“Disgusting,” Richard said as tidal waves in the rolls of fat attracted the eyes in morbid curiosity.

“Who’s that?” Ron asked, pointed at the pretzel stick wrapped in a white dress with a necklace of pearls.

“I…I think she’s for hire,” Jen said.

“Cut it out,” Harry stated.

Harry walked through the crowd yielding to the panting, overweight, Dudley. Dudley’s eyes latched onto Harry.

“Out of the way shrimp!” Dudley bellowed at Harry.

“You found a date,” Harry remarked.

Ron understood Harry’s point, Dudley was a cousin, for better or for worse, and Harry was trying to tell if Dudley would still follow in Uncle Vernon’s footsteps.

“Catherine worships me,” Dudley boasted as he stopped dancing.

“Good, for knowing her name,” Harry said.

“Unlike some delinquent bastard signed over to an orphanage,” Dudley said.

“That’s not your problem,” Harry said as he tucked his shirt underneath the broad belt, “Ta.”

Ron wondered why Harry worried about the shirt when their todgers dangled freely as Harry returned to Ron. Shaking rattled the crystal cups on the punch table as Dudley returned to dancing.

“Well?” Ron asked Harry.

“It was worth a try,” Harry said, “As a cousin, he deserved the chance that he promptly squandered.”

They glanced back toward Dudley, who said a few words, quietly, to Catherine, and she promptly began to cry.

“And his friend, Piers,” Harry said as another boy, in a matching Smeltings uniform, though taller than Dudley, began to freestyle dance with Dudley.

Some shattering as crystal cups began to drop from the table. Ron glanced at Charles Granger waving over two constables, the two who immediately marched over to Dudley and Piers.

“Hermione’s parents to the rescue,” Ron muttered.

“A place like this needs chaperones,” Harry said, “What’d you think her parents did?”

“Volunteered,” Ron said, “They said it was a date earlier.”

“And it is, for them,” Harry said, “You ought to focus on Hermione—I’m not sure she’ll come out of the loo unless you get her.”

“Gia went in,” Ron said.

“Give her some time, but _you_ go in after them,” Harry said.

“No!” came the loud holler.

Harry and Ron glanced over, where Piers was glaring at the constable restraining him by the forearm. Dudley became tipsy, fell, brushed against the constable’s belt, the pepper spray began to send out a misty cloud. Wheezing and coughing were heard as the ballroom quickly emptied. Handcuffs went around Dudley’s and Piers’ wrists as they were escorted outside by the constables.

SCREECH!

Motorists slammed on their brakes as the teenagers crowded onto Oxford Road.

“Biggest catch of the day,” Jen muttered

“Meanest chap around—” Richard said.

“Good riddance,” Harry said, “He’s a wanker—”

“You know him?” Richard raised his eyebrows.

“His cousin,” Ron replied.

“I fail to see the resemblance,” Jen said.

“Thank you,” Harry bowed to her.

Jen laughed until Richard’s eyes moved to the intersection with Commercial, where police cruisers were parked to block it off. Standing starkers in the middle of the intersection were Andy and Stephen Stewart with his soft todger dangling beneath the thin brown pubic hair.

“You treat—” Stephen shouted.

Harry worked his way around in the crowd forming about the feuding pair, Ron, Richard, and Jen were two steps behind.

“But I love—” Andy protested.

“After all—theft is how you repay—” Stephen said.

“I didn’t—” Andy said.

“She’s lying,” Richard whispered into Harry’s ear.

“Bollocks!” Stephen said, his fist and middle finger raised at her, “You stole from my wallet. You’re cheating—”

“But—” Andy protested, tears were streaming down her face.

“And Henry Weber—” Stephen said.

“Nothing!” Andy replied

“More lies COW!” Stephen exclaimed, “Dennis caught you two on his bed on more than one—”

“He’s lying!” Andy shouted, “It’s way too small—”

“We’re through,” Stephen said, coldly.

“Stevie—” Andy pleaded.

“Goodbye.” Stephen turned around.

“Maybe it’ll teach her—” Richard whispered, his whisper drifted further than intended.

A glint of steel flickered as Andy’s gaze landing upon Richard, her eyes fixated upon Richard.

“You bastard—” Andy screamed as she lunged, knife drawn, toward Richard.

Harry pushed, tackled Andy to the ground, and pinned her despite his cough from her liquor breath, his balls and todger dangled freely between his legs. Harry’s bottle green eyes focused on the knife, she lost her grip, and it flew the few feet until a black boot stepped on it. Andy’s eyes twitched, darted between Harry’s eyes and the whites to the owner of the boot glaring back down at her.

“Thank you Harry,” the owner of the boot said, “I’ll will handle this from here.”

“Mum!” Andy protested as Harry pulled her up to the boot owner.

“Andrea Fianna Osborn!” Kristen scolded, “Just what do you think…”

Harry grabbed Ron by the shoulder, they went back into the ballroom.

“Hermione,” Harry said, “Less Mr. Granger think you’re not treating her right.”

“Yeah,” Ron replied, “A little courage first.”

Ron walked over to the food buffet.

* * *

Ash was uncertain how long Gale had stood there, in the Hufflepuff Common Room, nor how long he had been sitting on the plush chair. Gale’s blue eyes kept studying Ash, eyes wide like a cat beneath the blond hair. Ash had already seen Gale’s todger stiffen and soften since he had sat down, still, Ash figured it best to keep watching. A chime, a warning to the curfew sounded.

“Well?” Ash asked, as he broke the silence.

Gale nodded, Ash stood, and they went back to the corridor, to the first years dormitory, entered. Gale bent over to rummage his trunk. Ash studied the bare buttocks, the crack, the anus, the scrotum between the legs, the foreskin showing itself, enticing to Ash’s hard stiffy.

“I mail ordered you—Halloween gift,” Gale said as he stood, turned back to face Ash, a jar of ink in his fingers, “Never ending–color changing as you write. Not good for classwork, but otherwise I figured you’d appreciate it.”

Ash took it, held the glass in his fingers.

“Um…thank you,” Ash said, “I didn’t think to get you anything.”

“Friends?” Gale asked.

“Yes,” Ash said, stepping closer to Gale.

Gale held his soft penis next to Ash’s, and it stiffened. Ash wrapped his arms around Gale’s rib–cage, held him close, studied the blue eyes beneath the blond hair, the ones not flinching, the ones accepting Ash’s gaze. Gale threw his weight, fell backward onto his bed, Ash fell with him. Gale giggled as Ash’s erection teased Gale’s testicles, Ash’s stomach on Gale’s, their chests breathed together.

“Even in trouble together, friends,” Ash said.

Gale smiled, his hands worked Ash’s lower back. Ash’s hands went beneath the armpits, underhandedly held Gale’s shoulders, brought his lips to Gale’s, and kissed. Gale’s tongue met Ash’s, greeted it, as Ash’s went exploring within to feel the teeth, the breath. A puff, two, and the hard cock pushing against his abdomen kept enticing Ash, kept the passion he held for his friend, a good friend whose retracted foreskin meant the glans was unabashed as it pressed against the skin, and Ash liked it there.

“You’re welcome,” Gale said.

“Haven’t finished,” Ash replied.

Gale smiled. Ash moved, sat backward on his butt, lifted Gale’s hips upward, centered the tip to Gale’s anus, and pulled the hips. Ash’s hard cock felt the squeeze as the tip started it’s plunge inward, of Gale surrounding it. Gale simply giggled for a moment, sighed as Ash pushed all the way into him. Ash’s fingers reached, massaged Gale’s smooth testicles, resting in their pouch, against Ash’s skin. Ash glanced at those blue eyes, the grin on the face, and Ash began to drill. Gale’s fingers teased the erection between them, both watched the fingers slip on Gale’s hard cock, while Ash kept pounding until the spasms and pressure began to release. Ash pulled out, placed his cock against Gale’s, tip against tip. Gale held them together, ridge against ridge, glans against glans, the slits next to each other, and they both felt the mutual pumping. They watched the off–white surge out of Ash’s slit first, followed by Gale’s. Both beads intertwined, spiraled around each other as the shots went upward, levitated into a puddle above them.

“Wicked,” Gale said.

“Yeah,” Ash said, their orgasms continued to send up their semen.

They heard footsteps. Ash pulled around, sat, as a brown haired boy entered the dormitory.

“Oh, you two—” said the boy, Presley, another first year Hufflepuff, with his Hufflepuff tie crumpled against the gray school jumper.

“Belated Halloween gift,” Ash said, holding the inkjar.

“Sure,” Presley said, the brown eyes surveyed them.

“Strike out with Easter?” Gale asked.

“I’m not _trying_ ,” Presley said, “Why’d I chase her? She hates boys, especially today! I heard that your _friend_ raped her last night.”

“Harry—” Ash started.

“I’m talking about the other nudist you both hang out with!” Presley snapped.

“We were all bewitched last night,” Ash said.

“Like _that’s_ an excuse!” Presley said.

“Spells exist—make you do stuff you don’t want to do,” Gale said.

“She was still raped!” Presley exclaimed.

“Buck didn’t have a choice,” Ash said, “There’s a curse that made him a puppet. If you want to jinx anybody, jinx the puppetmaster, jinx Seamus Finnigan.”

“Who?” Presley asked.

“At least he was the one **I** recognized,” Ash said, “Curse after curse—”

“Ash, about curfew,” Gale said, pointed to the inkjar.

“Ta,” Ash said, understood Gale’s discomfort of having the true nature of their relationship advertised, as he shared it too.

Ash took the inkjar, left the dormitory, went out of Hufflepuff common room. Ash hurried fast, as the lights began to go out, got into Gryffindor Tower, up the stairs to the first year boys’ dormitory, entered. Ash saw Buck’s head, eyes that pretended to sleep. Ash put his inkjar into his trunk, walked over to Buck’s four poster, lifted the covers, and crawled in. Ash backed himself on his side, until he felt Buck’s chest on the back, the breath on the neck, the stiffening penis against the buttocks. Ash felt the fingers slide over, tease the foreskin, and his shaft began to stiffen.

“Gale?” Buck asked.

“What’d you expect?” Ash said, “He’s trying to pretend…he’ll forgive though.”

Ash felt Buck’s knees, bent his legs, and felt the hand working the testicles, teasing the new stiffy.

“I already…” Ash whispered.

“Seconds?” Buck asked.

Ash giggled, softly, as the fingers kept working.

“You did rape her,” Ash said.

“I…” Buck stuttered.

“I know, you were hexed, still, she blames you because it was you,” Ash said.

“I apologized, I can’t take it back,” Buck said.

“Like I had it any better,” Ash said.

“Headmaster’s desk?” Buck said.

“Just…you know,” Ash said.

Ash knew he needed the attention, Buck’s attention, a friend eager to provide it. The hand on his balls calmed Ash, let it drain. A touch and a shove, Ash felt Buck thread in the hard cock, the familiar erection, into the anus, felt as the movements began.

“Wait a minute,” Buck whispered.

“Huh?” Ash asked, before he felt the fingers move deliberately to the base of Ash’s hard erection. Each fingertip touched the same spot.

“I’ll check in the morning,” Buck said, as Ash felt a small tug.

“Hey!” Ash snapped.

Buck’s hands returned and cradled Ash’s testicles, held them close, as the drilling stop. Ash felt the pumping of Buck’s orgasm, the hard cock remained lodged where it was as it softened. Ash heard Buck’s snoring start in, and Ash felt this soothing. Ash relaxed, fell to sleep.

* * *

Meanwhile, Hermione sat on the bench in the powder room of the ladies’ suite. Gia sat. Hermione glanced at Gia’s voluptuous breasts hanging free, made her conscious that her own breasts were freely exposed, and her parents were around.

“You said he gave you something?” Gia asked.

“Yes,” Hermione held the silver ring out.

“Pretty,” Gia said.

Hermione glanced at the gold ring on Gia’s right ring finger, she compared it to the one Ron gave her.

“It’s not the metal, it’s the passion behind it,” Gia said, “You know Ron’s situation.”

“It’s not that,” Hermione said. She imagined Ron spent every Knut he owned on it, even if it weren’t an expensive ring. Instead, her mind wrapped around that recurring nightmare, the dread of losing him in more ways than one made her hesitant, edgy.

“I flirt a lot,” Gia said, “And you know what? Boys are boys, you can’t expect them to change that. They may try, to appease you, but in the end, they are who they are. You know Ron, you know who he is, for good and for the bad, you know he’d go to the ends of the earth to protect you, to save you, to serve you; isn’t that worth something?”

“I’m…” Hermione stopped, she was afraid he’d do just that.

“He definitely loves you,” Gia said as her fingers closed to grip the ring between Hermione’s fingers, “The question he’s asked, the one only you can answer, do you still love him?”

Hermione sighed.

“I understand there’s a lot of magic in love in … your world, right?” Gia asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said.

“Harry rejects it, right?” Gia asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said, “Ron’s mentioned it, that Harry won’t know its true if he did.”

“Harry has his faults, I’m reminded of that every day as I change the sheets on the bed,” Gia said, “But I’m not going to deny his nature to be who he is. He’s taken to the flirt too, he practices on the others, uses it on me. What matters is his honesty, to me, that I can trust him even when he’s under lust, that his heart is big, generous, and can handle many, many, loves, so I know he’ll remain true to me.”

“You two…” Hermione muttered.

“Harry loves you too,” Gia said.

“I know,” Hermione said.

“He’d love to see you and Ron make up,” Gia said, “And watch it happen.

Hermione snorted.

“This—it was tough watching Ron bang…” Hermione started.

“If I were you, I’d learn to trust Ron too,” Gia said, “He’s still a boy, in many ways, they never grow up, not really.”

Hermione sighed. Gia held Hermione’s breasts.

“You didn’t have these when you first met them, did you?” Gia asked.

“No,” Hermione replied.

“That, alone, should tell you they love _you_ ,” Gia said, “Harry loves you too.”

“I know,” Hermione said.

“Him and Ron…you saw them fight this summer, over _you_ ,” Gia said, “So, do you love him?”

Hermione stood, left the ladies room. She glanced, spotted Ron at the buffet, grabbing an stick of chicken. His todger was now soft, the two characteristic lumps of his scrotum hung right beneath it against the velveted maroon cloth. Ron grabbed a cup of the punch, took a sip as he ate.

“Hi Hermione,” Harry said as he walked past, toward Gia coming out.

“Hi,” Hermione said. She glanced at Harry’s crotch, the black pubic hair gave a sharp contrast to the white cloth. Soft, friendly, the scrotum had slightly less color than Ron’s.

Hermione decided to play a tad harder, rather than walking right up to Ron, she glanced around, moved to the side, where Richard was leaning back with his blue shirt against the wall.

“How goes it?” Richard asked.

“I…um…” Hermione started, until she saw Harry running.

His balls swung, the soft todger flopped as Harry ran fast toward Ron, whispered into Ron’s ear. Ron surveyed the room, walked directly toward Hermione, his blue eyes fixated on her. His todger remained soft as he approached.

“Care to…dance?” Ron asked.

“Um…yes,” Hermione replied.

Ron held her hand, escorted her onto the dance floor, began the waltz he had learned back for the Yule ball a couple of years earlier. She watched his eyes remain on hers, the smile, the infectious grin he’s picked up from Harry. That her breasts are bare, that his todger is on display, did not affect his gaze into her eyes.

“Well,” Ron said, “You know the answer, do you know the question?”

Ron remained patient, kept dancing, taking her along, and stumbling as he did so. She saw both the man Ron was becoming, and the boy that he was, the same boy who quickly mastered the swish and flick to help save her from the mountain troll five years earlier. The same boy who ate slugs because of the insults laid at her. The same boy who warned about Sirius in the Shrieking shack before they knew the truth. The same boy who cared deeply about her, very deep, and she didn’t doubt that.

She heard the music encouraging her to turn around, examine herself, as they spun. Ron held on, pulled them a bit closer, and she felt the velvet of his suit on her nipples. His fingers felt hers, the ring finger missing the ring.

“I can wait,” Ron whispered.

“I know,” Hermione breathed in reply, softly.

Her left hand cradled the testicles dangling between them, he smiled. A little cool to the touch, they warmed up, loosened in the warmth of her hand.

“Up or stay down?” Ron asked.

Hermione let his chest sync up with hers, his breath across her face, she smelled the cologne, reminded her of the Burrow, the innocence that the name of Weasley tried to preserve, whether it stood or not, of that clock that Mrs. Weasley had, a clock that captured the essence of what mattered. Her insecurity about losing them, Ron, mattered, however, she realized that if she slipped wrong, she’d lose him right now, even with a crowd that had parted to give her and Ron the center of the dance floor.

“Well?” Ron asked as the spotlights trained on them.

Hermione took the ring out of her pocket, his fingers felt her slip it on. Ron kissed her as the music changed, a bit faster, when she felt his jacket vanish. She raised her eyebrows.

“Dunno,” Ron muttered.

Hermione knew Ron well enough to know that he wouldn’t lie, however, for them to read every detail—they typically left that to her. His bow tie vanished as her dress began to disintegrate.

“Seriously, not me,” Ron said.

“I know,” Hermione said, her eyes flickered over to Harry, grinning, “He…”

“Does it matter?” Ron asked as his shirt vanished.

Her bare breasts against his bare chest, his trousers vanished. Their socks, their shoes also disappeared. Last, their knickers gave up, dropped, leaving them starkers, in the middle of the dance floor, as the crowd watched them continue to dance. Catcalls came as Ron’s todger began to stiffen. Hermione felt it press against her, the hard shaft felt at home. Unmasked, she smelled a bit of the drift from his armpits, light on the deodorant.

“Never mind them,” Ron whispered.

She was starkers in front of her friends, her parents, and her old school chums; all witnessed Ron’s dick tap her clitoris, it rubbed as they continued to dance. Ron threaded it in; not the most usual of positions, but acceptable given the circumstances. Doubts, anxieties melted as Ron pushed it inward. All that mattered, in that moment, was that she was with Ron, together, that he did, indeed, love her. Despite his other shortcomings, Ron’s love is what mattered most to her.

“I do love you,” Ron said, his lips pushed onto hers, his tongue began to explore.

Ron did not rush it, let the hardness slide slowly as his tongue worked hers; both tuned out the crowd jeering and still catcalling, the audience that watched them bang under the spotlight, in the middle of the dance room. Another song, encouraged her to save the best for last, and she admitted to herself, as Ron explored her, that he was the best, for her. “No shame,” Ron said softly as he stopped the kiss, held his groin in for a moment.

Hermione felt the contractions, the surge of warmth, understood what his dick was doing before she saw it pull out, his softening todger dripping with semen.

“No shame in loving you,” Ron said, before he kissed her, again.

Hermione saw Linda Granger approach fast, scolding look in her eyes, before she whispered softly.

“That was magic!” Linda Granger scolded.

“I know,” Hermione replied, “In every sense of the word.”


	59. Gryffindor vs Slytherin

Harry woke Saturday morning to nibbling on his ear, and a hoot. Gentle claws as Hedwig was perched on his left shoulder as he was curled on his right side, Gia’s breasts pressed against his back.

Hoot! Hoot!

More nibbling.

“Okay, okay!” Harry said, “I’ll get up!”

Harry stroked a couple of feathers before she returned to her perch. he got up, went over, gave her an owl treat, before he went out the bedroom door.

“She’d make for a good alarm clock,” Richard remarked.

Brown and black pubic hair on display, they went down the stairs.

“Harry,” came the voice.

Harry turned, Kristen was there on the plush chair in police issued sweats, her feet rubbing Snuffles’ belly, her eyes on the two starkers teenage boys with their todgers dangling next to the green front door, Richard’s hand on the door knob.

“Good morning,” Harry said.

“Thank you for last night,” Kristen said, “I didn’t believe Andrea would’ve done that, but you stopped her. I suppose that was nerve wracking.”

“No,” Harry said, “Experience.”

“Still, it takes nerves of steel,” Kristen said, “Thank you.”

“Is she—?” Richard started to ask.

“In juvenile for the weekend, then up to the barrister,” Kristen said, “Might seem harsh, but it’s the right thing to do.”

“Not always,” Harry said, “She’s the daughter to the chief of the police, make sure you’re not unduly pressuring her, that the standards are indeed the same.”

“Just whose side are you on?” Richard asked.

“Experience that life is not fair,” Harry said, “Assaulting you was wrong, and she deserves to be punished for it. But, take Ron, he grew up with five older brothers, he’s continually overshadowed by them, and that plays a big role in how he behaves. Andy might simply be feeling overshadowed by you, Richard.”

“Family of six?” Kristen uttered.

“Eight,” Harry said, “He’s got a younger sister, a year younger, and a younger brother last spring, so he’s even lost the title of youngest brother.”

“I’d love to meet their mother, ask how she’s coping—” Kristen started.

“Can’t, she was murdered in June,” Harry said, “We’ll be—”

“Of course,” Kristen said.

Richard opened the door knob, him and Harry went outside into the dark morning, clouds overhead.

Pfffpt!

Richard laughed as they began to run.

“Like I wanted to tell her I needed to take my morning piss,” Richard said.

Harry glanced as Richard held the circumcised penis, began to urinate, his feet hopped to either side of the wet trail.

“Watch _this_ ,” Harry said as he pressed the button at the zebra crossing.

Harry jogged sideways, aimed as he retracted his foreskin. His yellow jet, illuminated by the motorist’s headlights, left a straight trail just outside of the painted stripes. Harry finished as he got to the other side.

“Talk about double standards,” Richard said.

Harry returned to running.

“Yeah, _definitely_ a double standard,” Harry said, “I shouldn’t be able to get away with it, but I do. Ron and Hermione seem to think it’s because I want to get away with it.”

“Don’t teach Ant that,” Richard retorted.

“I know,” Harry said.

“Thank you for last night,” Richard said, “Saved me a trip to A&E.”

Pfffpt!

“Nearly there,” Harry said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Richard said, his right hand reached for his todger, the fingers curled, and it began to stiffen. Richard stroked. “How much can you get away with?”

“Dunno,” Harry said.

Red hair, Lisa simply smiled while sitting on a bench as they approached.

“Here you go,” Richard said to her as he stopped, showed her the circumcised erection as his hand vigorously stroked it.

“Ta,” Lisa said as the first surge started. She watched the off–white snot shoot out as Richard ejaculated.

“Change not required,” Richard said as him and Harry returned to running; Richard’s freshly orgasmed todger left trails of semen along the shaft as it waggled with his gait.

“Funny things tend to happen around me,” Harry said.

They kept running as the morning light was starting to illuminate the clouds above.

“They tend to do,” Richard replied.

“I mean—” Harry pointed to his own erection, and the police car sitting nearby, “Yet—I supposedly _want_ to get away with it, so I do.”

“Creepy, not objecting,” Richard said.

They laughed.

“Drives Ant crazy, I’m sure,” Richard said.

“Do pay some attention to her,” Harry said.

“With all her boyfriends giving her plenty?” Richard said, “Well, there is that one that came with you, sounded like Ant?”

“Ash?” Harry asked.

“That’s the one,” Richard said, “He seemed the nicest of the lot.”

“Not happening,” Harry said, “I mean, he’s doing well, Ant got a bit of the shyness out of him, so better, and he’s even got a girlfriend at school now.”

“Tell Ant that,” Richard said.

“Nope, not going to stir up trouble,” Harry said, “She’s skilled enough as it is.”

Richard laughed. Harry’s hard cock was still swaying as they returned home, entered 26 Oak St. Harry went up the steps.

“Quidditch?” Gia asked.

“Snuffles!” Harry said.

Harry glanced at Gia, with her low–cut orange shirt, the breasts mostly visible.

“I figured I had to be modest, right?” Gia asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry said, wishing she had less on. Harry grabbed his Portkey, wand, activated it. Gia and Harry held on, pressed it against Snuffles’ snout as it pulled them.

Woof!

Snuffles jumped off the bed after they landed.

“Lemme watch you get into those robes,” Gia said.

“Um…about those…” Harry said before he glanced at the note on his desk.

Dear Mr. Potter,

Your Quidditch Robes were found in the laundry, they’re in safekeeping in my office. See me when you arrive.

Professor McGonagall.

“Come on boy!” Harry quipped to Snuffles, to earn a growl in return. Harry grabbed his Firebolt, walked out of the dormitory. Harry’s todger softened as he went down the steps, Gia and Snuffles followed, and went down the third floor, to the office, knocked.

“Greetings,” Professor Lupin said, “I think we can manage.”

Snuffles and Gia went into the office, while Harry headed down the corridor.

* * *

“Well?” Buck asked, “I know you’re loving it!”

Ash held each of testicles in his fingers, the left and the right, as Buck was knealing on the four poster bed. Ash felt the oblong lumps in Buck’s scrotum.

“Round,” Ash said, his eyes on the exposed slit of his friend’s hard erection, a slit with a slight dampness to it.

“That’s not even the question,” Buck said.

“Long?” Ash asked before he puckered up, kissed the glans.

“You’re just playing,” Buck said, “I found some on you, least you can do is tell me if I have any hair.”

Ash’s tongue licked the foreskin, teased it into retracting, as his fingers felt around the base of Buck’s hard shaft.

“Stop, you’re about to—” Buck started as Ash’s tongue worked the fulcrum.

Ash tasted the meaty flavor as the off–white poured out, Buck laughed while Ash felt along the fleshy lumps of the scrotum. Ash stepped back, his eyes moved from the drizzling slit, up to the brown eyes as his knees went in front of Buck’s, stuck out the white covered tongue, before he shook his head.

“None yet?” Buck asked.

Ash shook his head, brought his mouth to Buck’s, stuck his tongue into Buck’s.

“Eww,” Buck muttered as Ash slathered their tongues together.

“Yours,” Ash said as his head pulled back, tongue withdrew.

“Doesn’t make it better,” Buck replied.

“See if they have breakfast?” Ash asked.

“Yes!” Buck said.

They got off the bed, walked out of the first–years boys’ dormitory. Ash felt at the base of his penis as they walked, with it’s several strands of short hair, his pubic hair was finally coming in.

“You two did, didn’t you?” Gale asked as Ash and Buck reached the Entrance Hall, the eyes on Ash’s and Buck’s mutual smiles.

“You weren’t there,” Buck said.

“Come on,” Ash said, and they entered the Great Hall.

* * *

“Hermione.”

Hermione woke to the voice, heard Ron still snoring next to her. She glanced up, Linda Granger was there, with the bedroom door cracked open.

“Honey,” Linda Granger said, “We need to talk.”

Hermione didn’t feel like it, she pushed the cover back.

“I can sort things out myself,” Hermione said, “Take Ron here.”

She repositioned herself, lifted his todger, and it stiffened in her right hand curled around it. Her eyes, though, focused on the two pink testicles hovering just above his lap, Her left fingers traced each one.

“Boys seem complex, but this is the secret to convincing them,” Hermione said, “They’re quite malleable and open to suggestion if you pay attention to what they like to think with.”

She clasped Ron’s left first, against his stiff todger, before she clasped his right.

“You’re being short sighted if that’s what you truly think,” Linda said.

“He’s more complex, of course,” Hermione said, “Still, he’s more open by this.”

“They’re only so loose,” Linda said, “And the effect gets less profound with age. Please, we need to talk.”

Ron winked as Hermione stood, followed her mother downstairs, to the dining room. Linda sat to one side, Hermione sat on the other.

“You—it seems like you’re fighting a demon within you,” Linda said, “Do we even consider your display of last night?”

“Like you’d understand! I don’t think so,” Hermione said.

“Try me,” Linda said.

“After he—we—” Hermione said, “Ron has his faults, but he can be made to see reason, and he saw it last night, I saw it in him. We, he gave me this—” she showed the ring “—and it went from there, all the way.”

“We saw,” Linda said.

Hermione blushed.

“Mum, I won’t take the night back,” Hermione said.

“You may…I think you could benefit by talking to Father Dowling,” Linda said, “Somebody who’s not me—”

“He’s a stranger to me now,” Hermione said, “I meant no disrespect, but I last talked to him when I was ten! I’m different now.”

“I’ll say,” said Ron as he entered. She glanced at him, with his Weasley grin on his face, the red trail of fuzz from his naval down to his pubic hair, the erection freely showing.

“A breakfast bang, why not?” Linda whipped, sarcastically.

“Nice idea,” Ron said, stepping closer to Hermione. He pressed his loitering hard cock down, the ridge pressed against her shoulder as his loose balls rested against her arm. “Delay the game.”

“You’re seeing Madam Pomfrey before that _thing_ touches me,” Hermione said, “I don’t know where it’s been, so I need…assurances.”

Ron frowned.

“Before the game,” Hermione said.

“That’s soon!” Ron said.

“Then we best hurry,” Hermione said, “I need to dress.”

“Good luck on the game,” Linda said, “I hope you’ll reconsider Hermione, Father Dowling’s an excellent man.”

“No,” Hermione said as she stood.

She went up the stairs, to her bedroom, Ron followed.

“You don’t need clothes,” Ron said, “Go starkers, be a cheerleader.”

“No thank you, Ronald,” Hermione replied as she started through her blouses.

“Here,” Ron said, as he grabbed a simple lavender T–shirt and blue jeans.

“They don’t _match_!” Hermione snapped.

Ron moved slightly, swung, gyrated at his hips, and his hard erection began to swing back and forth. Hermione snorted.

“You love it,” Ron said.

“Your game,” Hermione said.

“Can wait,” Ron said.

“Love to hear that explanation to Oliver Wood,” Hermione said.

Hermione did select a light blue blouse with blue slacks, that matched with the brassiere and panties, put those on. Socks and shoes; Ron activated his Portkey, she grabbed her wand and the Portkey, it pulled them away from Noigate, to land in Ron’s bed. Ron glanced around, saw a note on his desk, read it.

“Professor McGonagall has my Quidditch Robes,” Ron said.

“No need for underwear then?” Hermione asked.

“Why?” Ron muttered.

He grabbed his Firebolt, they left the dormitory.

“Remember, Madam Pomfrey!” Hermione said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ron said.

“You want to use that, right?” Hermione asked, “Do I need to get Gia to join in?”

“Okay, alright!” Ron said, “Please, stop nagging, we’ll go there _before_ I get my Quidditch Robes, save time.”

They climbed down the steps, down to the first floor, entered the Hospital Wing.

“What seems to be the matter?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“Hermione wanted me to be checked,” Ron said.

“He’s—lets just say he’s strayed a bit,” Hermione said, “So, a precaution.”

“Always advisable,” Madam Pomfrey said, “This way.”

They went over to a bed, her wand flicked and the privacy curtain went up around them.

“Like I really needed the privacy,” Ron said, pointing to his balls dangling freely.

“Symptoms?” Madam Pomfrey asked as she slowly waved her wand over him, watched his skin as she did so.

“Sticking his big _dick_ into others,” Hermione said.

“Oh,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Wise precaution.”

Madam Pomfrey brought over a petri dish, aimed her wand, and Ron’s hard cock sputtered, the off–white semen poured out as he ejaculated.

“There goes the morning bang,” Ron muttered.

“You’ll just have to win the match then,” Hermione said.

“I’ll let you know the results after the match,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Ron and Hermione left the privacy curtain.

“Ronald!” came the call.

Mr. Arthur Weasley entered the Hospital Wing.

“Hi Dad,” Ron said, partially blushed as he was standing starkers, though his dick was rapidly softening with a small bit of dew still clinging to the slit.

“I heard you were here,” Mr. Weasley said.

“I wanted assurances after certain…indiscretions,” Hermione said.

“Understood,” Mr. Weasley said.

“I’d love to stay and chat,” Ron said, “But I want to get a bit of flying in before the game. I’m not sure where Harry or Gia are.”

“She’s with Professor Lupin,” Mr. Weasley said.

“I’ll catch up with you,” Hermione said to Ron.

Hermione and Mr. Weasley left the Hospital Wing.

…

Ron walked along the corridor, toward Professor McGonagall’s office.

“Ron!” quipped Harry, coming alongside him. Harry was also starkers, with the dangling soft todger beneath the black pubic hair.

They heard the roar from outside, from the stands of the Quidditch Pitch; their Firebolts in their hands.

“Potter! Weasley!”

Ron and Harry stumbled and barely missed tripping as they halted. In front of them, Professor Snape stepped out of a corridor, stood in their way, his eyes upon theirs.

“This way!” Professor Snape ordered, pointed toward the stairs going upward.

“Severus…what is…the concern?” asked Professor Dumbledore as he stepped out of Professor McGonagall’s office. Professor McGonagall stepped out, stood next to him, two pairs of Quidditch Robes were in her arms.

“Headmaster,” Professor Snape said, “These two have yet to serve their detention for the Thursday beating of Macmillan and Finch–Fletchley.”

“No punishment was served, … because it was unwarranted,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I am satisfied … that Mr. Potter nor Mr. Weasley … were involved in that assault.”

“Slow morning?” Harry asked of Professor Snape.

“Good luck on the match,” Professor Dumbledore said.

Professor McGonagall handed over their Quidditch Robes, accompanied Harry and Ron as they left the castle, todgers swaying. Both pulled their Quidditch Robes over themselves as they walked.

“I would’ve expected you two to at least consider underwear,” Professor McGonagall said.

“I try to avoid the stuff,” Harry replied.

“You’ll be flying,” Professor McGonagall said.

“Yep,” Harry said.

“We’re dedicated players,” Ron quipped.

A few small clouds were overhead, but it was mostly sunny, and unreasonably warm for November in the Scottish highlands. They came to the Quidditch Pitch. Harry and Ron joined up with the other Gryffindor players in their starting box.

“Wonder what inspiration our Captain will—” Brenner said.

“Likely `beat them or I’ll beat you,’” MacDonald said.

“Let the points rack up,” Ron whispered to Harry, “Give them a nice defeat.”

“Wonder if we need the Seeker or Keeper?” Brenner asked of all.

“Just play,” Ron said to the team, his eyes momentarily focused upon Brenner.

…

Gia watched the buzzed blond hair come up the stairs, Luke Sedgwick’s blue eyes darted to her, and he came over; in a simple gray T–shirt with blue shorts.

“You came?” Gia asked.

“Did _she_ come too?” Hermione demanded.

“Just me,” Luke said as he sat next to Gia, “Well, and Katie Bell, but she’s interested in the referee.”

Gia glanced, realized Luke, like her, figured a school was a bad place to be starkers. She glanced over at the other box, where she could see Ash with his friends. At the stands where she could see Mr. Weasley standing with Colin, omnioculars at the ready.

“About the party…” Luke said.

“I don’t regret it,” Gia said.

“So you’re upset I didn’t—?” Luke asked.

“You wanted to get more use, I understand that,” Gia said, “Though, I’m interested in seeing it…all the way through.”

“I’ll…I’d like that,” Luke said, “Assuming your boyfriend—”

“He’ll accept it,” Gia said, “We’ve got…open minds.”

“You’re talking about—later!” Hermione said, “Keep _her_ safe.”

Gia glanced at Snuffles, laying next to Professor Lupin, nearby.

“What’d she mean by that?” Luke asked.

“I’m a muggle,” Gia said.

“Oh,” Luke said.

“Disappointed?” Gia asked.

“You’ve got a magical personality,” Luke said.

“My boyfriend agrees,” Gia said, as she showed off her gold ring, reflected sunshine sparked from it, “Lets me see—well, this.”

“Suppose it’s best to pretend we’re just friends,” Luke said, “It’s a school, after all.”

“Yep,” Gia said, “Otherwise…it’d be fun.”

…

“Hello,” Mr. Weasley said as Hermione came to stand next to him and Colin Creevy, “I’ve got two kids in this game, and Molly wouldn’t let me forget about Harry if she were here.”

“It’s Gryffindor, like you need another reason,” Hermione said.

“Which means it’ll be a clean game,” Mr. Weasley replied.

“Like Ginny would tolerate that,” Colin said.

Hermione glanced at the top box, where Seamus Finnigan brought the magic microphone to his lips. As he spoke, the door beneath dropped, seven players in red Quidditch robes mounted their brooms, sunshine on their faces. Harry and Ron led with their Firebolts; the rest on Cleansweeps.

“Their uniforms!” Mr. Weasley said.

Hermione glanced, where it was clear that neither Harry nor Ron wore anything beneath their robes, as their loose todgers, their balls, dangled loose as the front of their robes simply hung to their handles, leaving their genitals, anus, exposed to anybody below them.

“Figured,” Hermione muttered. Though she trained the omnioculars onto Ron, watched his erection stiffen.

“For Gryffindor,” Finnigan announced, “It’s Brenner, MacDonald, Ginny Weasley, Prewett, and Prewett!”

“Announce Everybody!” Professor McGonagall scolded.

“Sorry professor,” Finnigan said, seemingly to delay long enough to not have to utter Ron’s nor Harry’s names, when the other door dropped.

Seven players in green came out with the collective speed of a Shooting Star , though they were on Nimbus 2010’s, the crisp robed Slytherins came out slower than a goblin gives out money, they started to fly as Finnigan took a few breaths.

…

“I wonder what’s wrong with them?” Luke asked.

“Dunno,” Gia said, “I think I watched the most ever on Thursday.”

“Introducing, by means of a grand tour of the stadium, the Slytherin Quidditch team. First, we have Draco Lucius Malfoy who is leading as Captain this year. He has put together a team that has promise to dominate over the team of near all new talent for Gryffindor. Next, we have, as beaters, Vincent Crabbe and Greggory Goyle. As chasers, we have Baddock, Bletchley, and Warrington. Last but not least, we have the Keeper for Slytherin, Theodore Nott. As I understand it, both Nott and Malfoy have submitted a proposal for a cheer–leading squad to be formed. And Slytherin is nearly in position.”

Chuckles drifted through the stadium as the “nearly–in–position” sloppy formation was several yards below Gryffindor. Harry and Ron glanced at each other, both smiled.

“There you are,” said Katie Bell as she came up, “You ditched me.”

“Protecting _his_ girlfriend,” Luke said.

“Of course you are!” Katie said.

“There’s always your boyfriend,” Gia offered.

“He’s working the game!” Katie Bell snapped.

“And here comes our former captain of the Gryffindor team, better than the current one—” Finnigan started.

“Mr. Finnigan!” Professor McGonagall snapped.

“It’s the truth!” Finnigan retorted, “Oliver Wood is officiating today’s match. Here he comes!”

Oliver Wood came over, carrying a crate and a broom; he put them down into the center. He blew his whistle.

“Play clean and have fun,” Oliver Wood said as he unlatched the crate. He lifted the top, released the Snitch, the Bludgers, and mounted an unnamed black broom. Oliver Wood ascended and tossed the Quaffle up into the air.

“And they’re off!” Finnigan announced, “It appears that the Slytherins are guarding the low ground.”

“His todger—he’d definitely do good in professional,” Luke said, omnioculars aimed at Harry.

“You like it?” Gia said, “Or his arse?”

“Both,” Luke said.

“You’re not—?” Gia started.

“I…I appreciate both sides of the equation,” Luke said, “And…he’s definitely confident.”

Gia watched Harry’s stiffy form as he loitered above, surveying the field.

“He’s confident _now_ ,” Gia said, “Took me a lot of effort to get him to overcome the fear of it.”

“I couldn’t tell,” Luke said, “It’s great it’s not been mutilated.”

“Circumcision? It’s evil,” Gia said, “I won’t fault the boy for it, because normally it wasn’t their decision to be robbed of it. But I can tell the difference in their confidence.”

“Experienced?” Luke asked.

“Enough,” Gia replied.

…

Tina leaned back, sitting in front of Ash, her head rested between his legs, against the stiffening todger. His erection dug through her blonde hair for a moment, his shaft rested on her crown, his balls felt the strands against his scrotum, as his bollocks became pillows to her.

“Watch it, he might…” Buck started. Ash realized Buck was looking for school friendly verbiage, Ernie Macmillan was nearby, a Hufflepuff Prefect. “A new shampoo.”

Tina snorted. “Better not.”

“You know how Ash is,” Gale said.

“He’ll warn me _before_ it happens,” Tina said, “And pull back.”

Ash appreciated the confidence, with his foreskin retracted, his pink glans snuggled between lochs of her hair.

“A Knut says you’ll do it,” Buck said.

“A Knut says he won’t,” Gale replied.

“You two!” Tina said.

“What are friends for?” Buck asked.

“Not to…encourage _that_!” Tina snapped, “Right Ash?”

Too many people, Ash’s fingers caressed her ear lobes resting against his inner thighs.

“We’ll do it to _you_ ,” Gale promised Buck. Ash snorted, Tina laughed.

“Gryffindors are Cleansweeping the Slytherins!” Finnigan announced.

Eyes easily tracked the slow flights of Slytherin green, compared to the blurs of the Gryffindor scarlet red and gold.

“Go Gryffindor!” came the chants.

It encouraged Ash that the school was still rooting _for_ Gryffindor even though Harry and Ron were on the team, in key positions, that the animosity to them personally hadn’t yet carried over to all of the house team. Overall, Ash liked it here, with tHe sun warming up his pink glans with lochs covering portions of his hard erection woven into her hair; his balls were as loose as Harry’s were.

“Ginny Weasley has the Quaffle!” Finnigan announced.

Eyes followed her, Quaffle in her hand, as she went straight for the goal. Malcolm Baddock tried to move, but he barely managed to budge on his broom. Theodore Nott got his hands up, but was halfway to the ground as Ginny reached the goal. She threw the Quaffle into the hoop.

“You’re supposed to **GUARD**!” Draco Malfoy screamed.

“After a valiant attempt at defense, SCORE!” Finnigan announced, “Slytherin now in possession. Nott throws it to Baddock.”

“You need to take a piss,” Buck said to Ash.

“Don’t encourage him!” Tina snapped.

“It’d be convenient, a shower and relief,” Gale remarked.

Buck laughed. Ash glanced at Buck’s erection also soaking up the heat from the sun as it jutted outward.

…

“They’re walking all over the Slytherins,” Mr. Weasley remarked.

“I know,” Hermione said, realizing that their little ploy earlier that week was effective as Josh Brenner flew between two Slytherins.

“Baddock to Warrington was intercepted by Josh Brenner,” Finnigan announced.

Josh Brenner threw the Quaffle to Natalie McDonald, who threw it between the hoops.

“McDonald scores!” Finnigan announced to more cheers in the stand.

“What the fuck is WRONG with you!” Malfoy shouted at Nott, now standing on the ground, with the Quaffle. 

Hermione glanced at Harry, who seemingly took advantage of the misdirected attention and peed, the golden stream arched out of his stiff erection, showered onto the grass below.

“Animal,” Hermione muttered to herself. Not that she was particularly offended, as she’s gotten accustomed to seeing Harry pee, just that he was doing it at Hogwarts in the open.

Nott drop–kicked the Quaffle at Malfoy. Malfoy ducked just before Josh Brenner grabbed it. A Bludger headed toward Vincent Crabbe, who dropped to the ground just in time for it to pass as Josh Brenner flew faster than the Bludger.

“Now the Gryffindors are just having fun!” Mr. Weasley said.

…

“Your boyfriend, by chance, doesn’t have anything to do with this?” Luke asked.

“Dunno,” Gia replied.

Gia’s hand slipped along Luke’s shorts, she felt the tension building against her hand as the customary tent pole started.

“I see why he likes you,” Luke said as she felt the hard tip beneath the cloth.

“Hey!” Josh Brenner said as he soared past Bletchley, “Looking for this?” Brenner held up the Quaffle, spun it like a basketball, before he tossed it through the unguarded right goal post.

Laughter and clapping resonated throughout the stadium.

“This just isn’t Slytherin’s day,” Finnigan said, “I’m obligated to suggest they reexamine their diets in the presence of Madam Pomfrey.”

Gia’s hand felt the lack of underwear, adjusted the leg of Luke’s shorts to keep his hard shaft from binding, her fingers felt the tip of foreskin just beneath the hem.

“Ta,” Luke said.

“It’s…you’re friendly,” Gia said, her own shorts were binding, and feeling Luke’s todger distracted her from that.

Luke smiled.

Malfoy, despite being Seeker, threw the Quaffle toward Baddock. A streak of red hair, Ginny’s long strands flowed with the wind as she sailed between, caught the Quaffle. Malfoy attempted to pursue, but he was no match for her, even the butterflies outflew him. His ears tinged as he drew his wand.

“Not good,” Luke said.

“ _Reductus!_ ” Malfoy exclaimed.

A blast of magic, and the Quaffle disintegrated.

“Two penalties!” Oliver Wood said after he blew his whistle, “Do that again and you forfeit!”

Ginny’s scarlet red Quidditch robes exploded into finely shredded confetti, her knickers shared the same fate, leaving her starkers on her broom, her shaved vulva on display. Nearly simultaneously, Ron’s robes, Harry’s robes, Brenner’s robes, McDonald’s robes, Justin Prewett’s, and Paul Prewett’s suffered the same fate. Ginny’s face blushed nearly as dark as her hair.

“Okay, a _proper_ game,” Luke said.

“Time out!” Oliver Wood said, “Captains!”

…

“Ginny!” Mr. Weasley shouted.

Ginny flew over.

“Take my coat,” Mr. Weasley said, as he offered to hand it over.

“Only a uniform is permitted,” Ginny said, “Those are the rules.”

“You’re starkers!” Mr. Weasley said.

“We’re not forfeiting, not when Slytherin’s acting like this!” Ginny said, she returned to flight.

“What _is_ happening?” Colin asked.

“Quidditch, hard Quidditch,” Mr. Weasley said, “You know anything Hermione?”

“No,” Hermione replied, lying. She knew the Slytherins had taken the bait, their performance betrayed it, but they were now retaliating, as the magic microphone sought out the meeting of the captains with Oliver Wood.

“The _only_ reason I’m not ejecting you now is because Slytherin needs every broom,” Oliver Wood said to Malfoy, “Destruction of the balls, stripping your opponent, these are not tolerated on this field, understood?”

“But they’re jinxing our brooms!” Malfoy stammered.

“We did no such thing,” Ron protested, “Look at us!”

“An exception can be made,” Professor McGonagall said, “They need their Quidditch robes.”

“Rules are the rules,” Oliver Wood said, “They can leave the field.”

“And forfeit? NO!” Ron said, “This is now our uniform for the match, it’ll have to do.”

“Your sister—” Professor McGonagall said.

“Like we’ve not done this before, seriously,” Ron said, “We’re fine with it.”

“How do you suggest we handle this?” Oliver Wood asked.

“Let’s play,” Ron said, “I’m having fun.”

Katie Bell brought out a replacement Quaffle as the teams gathered around. Oliver Wood tossed it up.

“And the game continues!” Finnigan announced.

…

Ash studied his house’s teammates, the seven Gryffindors now flying starkers above, and he could guess who’s more comfortable. Ginny, with her shaved pubic, seemed at ease, the vulva on display, stiffening an untold number of todgers around the stadium. Harry and Ron, Ash already knew they were comfortable with this. Both beaters, Justin and Paul Prewett, were closer to the start of puberty than the end, with modest brown pubic hair, were less comfortable as their hands tried to shield, however, the Bludgers refused to let up. Tears welted up on Natalie McDonald’s face, the brown carpet against the handle of her broom. Josh Brenner, with his circumcised penis quickly rose, and he tried to hide the stiffy with both hands, enough of a distraction to him that Ginny quickly became the most active Chaser.

Ginny flew fast, more agile, with the Quaffle, her butt in the air, mooning as Bletchley tried to follow. She threw the Quaffle in.

“Bletchley just got carded for trying to intercept a penalty shot,” Finnigan said, “Two more were awarded to Gryffindor, next up, Josh Brenner.”

…

Harry flew along side Brenner.

“It’s not a big deal,” Harry said, “Just focus on the goal.”

“Easy for you to say,” Brenner replied.

“Take a lap, let the girls get a good look,” Harry said, “Be in their dreams tonight.”

“Not helping,” Brenner replied.

“Alright, need me to take the shot for you?” Harry asked.

“No,” Brenner said.

“Just move your hands forward, and get it over with,” Harry said.

Josh blushed, as he moved, the hard circumcised cock jutted out from beneath the really thick brown pubic hair.

“And you’ll have a date or two tonight,” Harry said, “Have at it.”

“Ladies, pay attention,” Finnigan announced.

Josh gripped the broom, took the Quaffle. Harry flew next to Josh, paced as Josh made for the goal, tossed it in. Oliver Wood brought the Quaffle down to Natalie Wood.

“Ta,” Brenner said to Harry.

“No sweat,” Harry replied.

“Should’ve practiced like you wanted to,” Brenner said.

Harry’s right hand held Brenner’s shoulder.

“Wish you had, but that’s in the past,” Harry said, “Biggest advice, stop worrying, focus on the game. Worst case, the school knows you’re a stud and you can take half of them to bed.”

Brenner blushed.

“Well, you are well hung,” Harry said, as he glanced at the large, loose, hairy testicles, “Yeah, girls will be wanting those.”

“That’s not helping,” Brenner said.

“Well, best stay away from me,” Harry said, “Lousy influence, and—you’re likely joining me in Witch Weekly .“ Harry pointed to the cameras in the stadium.

Ginny scored the final penalty, and they flew apart. Harry watched as Brenner slowly eased into it, and continued being a Chaser. Harry drifted upward on his Firebolt, aware his hard cock was enjoying itself in the sunshine, a pleasurable feeling as the light kept his exposed pink glans bathed in warmth. Harry glanced at Ron’s eyes, knew Ron felt the same, that playing starkers made Quidditch even more enjoyable, with nothing between them and the game. Harry glanced at Draco Malfoy, saw the Snitch where it had been for a little while, several feet _behind_ Malfoy with little chance of being spotted by the crowds.

They kept playing for most of the day.

* * *

Shadows threatened to engulf them, the Gryffindors had relaxed, flew a tad slower, were less rushed, as they brought the score up to three hundred forty to zero. As Ginny worked her way along the line toward the goal, McDonald guarding, the Gryffindor boys did a victory lap around the stadium, cheers greeted their ears as Ron and Harry began to pee out of their soft todgers.

“Harry,” Ron said.

With Ron in agreement, Harry decided it was time to end this, they were rubbing salt in the wounds of Slytherin. Harry saw the glint of gold escape its favorite hiding spot of the game, went fast in front of Malfoy. Malfoy’s eyes lit up as Harry pushed his handle forward. Harry dove, legs straddling the broom, his balls swung between them. Cheers came to their ears as two more goals are scored. The Snitch apparated upward, Malfoy rose like a lead brick, while Harry gained ground. Harry recognized the curse as it hit him, the sudden pressure, and his bowels quenched. Harry focused on the flying gold while his anus dilated. Harry felt the sludge move, he began to take a dump, in mid–air, as his hand closed around the Snitch.

“Gryffindor wins the dirtiest game ever by five hundred ten points to zero!” Finnigan announced.

Harry made it to the grass, stayed on his hands and knees, as his turds dropped onto the grass beneath him. He heard the cameras, figured it’s already in Witch Weekly before he had the chance to wipe.

“Congratulations,” said Luke, coming over.

“Just a minute,” Harry said, figuring it best to just finish the job, as he pushed to expel the last bit, “Some hexes are best to just let em run their course.”

Pfffpt!

“Glad I wasn’t hit by that one,” Josh Brenner said, lending a hand.

Harry felt the cleaning charm before he was pulled up.

“It happened,” Harry said.

“Mind?” Josh Brenner asked.

Harry shrugged, he and Brenner walked a few paces away.

“Thank you for…coaching,” Josh Brenner said, “I…I don’t regret staying in the game.”

“I _think_ we’ll have robes by the next match,” Harry said.

“I wouldn’t mind them being…late,” Josh Brenner said.

“I would,” Harry said, “I think the next match is in February.”

“Okay, heated robes,” Josh Brenner said.

“Deal,” Harry said, extending a hand. Josh Brenner shook it.

“You’re a real Jekyll and Hyde,” Josh Brenner said, “Glad to have the good side today.”

“Being stripped—that’s how it’s been for me all term,” Harry said, “I don’t know who’s pulling the shit here, but it’s not me, that’s all that I do know.”

“You’ve got your ways to hide it,” Josh Brenner said.

“Same ways somebody _else_ is impersonating _me_ ,” Harry said, “Great game.”

Harry made for Ron, Hermione, Luke, and Gia; they headed for the castle beneath the dimming sky. Professor McGonagall, Katie Bell, and Oliver Wood caught up, accompanied them.

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley,” Professor McGonagall said, “I had never seen such a performance, do you have any insights?”

“They _screwed_ themselves over,” Ron stated.

“A new Nimbus should fly,” Oliver Wood said, “Mr. Malfoy is now demanding an investigation—”

“If he wishes to strip his broom, that’s his affair,” Harry said, “They really did it to themselves.”

“Everything is clean,” Ron said, “We never touched their brooms.”

They paused at the front doors to the castle.

“Very well,” Professor McGonagall said as she went inside.

Oliver Wood, though, studied Ron’s and Harry’s faces with their broad smiles.

“What the bloody hell _did_ you do?” Oliver Wood asked.

“Very well,” Harry pulled both Oliver Wood and Ron away from the others, a short distance away from the doors. “We gave them the spell.”

“Why would they knowingly jinx themselves?” Oliver Wood asked.

“They thought they stole it from us, but we wanted them to have it,” Harry said, “We neglected to mention the side effects to the magic condom.” Harry’s eyes studied the grin creeping across the face. “It’s a spell, great in a pinch for pleasure, but your magic evaporates for a day or two. Judging by their performance, I think they’ve broken some school rules recently.”

“Good one!” Oliver Wood doubled over, laughing, “Definitely not in the Quidditch guidebooks.”

“We had rookies,” Ron said, “It was our best option, but we’ll have to train up for the next time, doubt it’ll work twice.”

Oliver Wood was still laughing as he entered the castle. Harry mounted his Firebolt.

“The game is over,” Professor McGonagall said as she came back outside, her eyes on Gia getting onto Harry’s backside.

“Fastest way to the dormitory,” Harry said.

“Irresponsible,” Professor McGonagall replied.

“Only way,” Hermione said, “They…sorry, been meaning to ask earlier, but they’ve been keeping the password from us, deliberately changing it without asking us.”

“They don’t see us, and we don’t see them,” Harry quipped.

“You are members of the Gryffindor House, you are entitled to the password,” Professor McGonagall said, “I will be instructing Mr. Thomas to not to attempt to lock you out, again. If the password is changed without your knowledge, inform me immediately. The current password is `Expulsion’.”

“Window’s quicker,” Harry said.

“Humor me and use the portrait Mr. Potter,” Professor McGonagall said.

Harry sighed. With their brooms in their hands, Harry and Ron entered the castle. Hermione and Gia followed.

“Great game,” Ron said.

“Yeah, it was,” Harry replied.

Ron turned around, waved his hard erection at Hermione as he walked backward for a moment.

“Suppose that’s the new Gryffindor uniform,” Hermione said.

“Next match in the dead of winter?” Harry said, “No.”

“So you _do_ have limits,” Hermione said, “Interesting.”

“Freezing things off?” Ron said, “No thank you.”

“Can you charm the brooms?” Gia asked, “You know, keep things warm?”

“Depends on the model,” Hermione said, “The Firebolt _might_ have it.”

“Glad you’re warming up,” Gia said.

“One benefit of _adult_ Quidditch, i can see where he sticks it,” Hermione said.

“Not that again!” Ron said.

“Always,” Hermione said.

They reached the portrait hole.

“Expulsion,” Harry said. The picture swung open.

Inside the common room was a bunch of noise, commotion, as the others celebrated. Harry held Gia’s hand, made fast for the stairs; Ron and Hermione followed. Up the stairs, they entered the sixth year boys’ dormitory.

“Hi Harry,” said Ash, reclining on Harry’s four poster, “Wanna celebrate?”

“Later,” Harry said as he grabbed his Portkey.

“Harry, Ron!” came Ginny’s voice up the stairs, “You up there?”

“Bye,” Harry said as he activated his Portkey, “Don’t celebrate too hard.”

Gia held on, they were pulled away from Hogwarts.

“That was a game!” Gia exclaimed as they were still in flight.

“It was an easy game,” Harry said undid her orange top, the two voluptuous breasts came out, “Knowing Slytherin, they’re likely trying to find a way to get the game annulled.”

“Can the?” Gia asked.

“Dunno, I suppose there’s a way,” Harry said, “Never mind, I’m definitely interested.”

“I could tell,” Gia said, touching his hard cock, “Though so could Luke.”

“Luke…Luke…” Harry muttered.

Cool porcelain came to their feet as they landed.

“What?!” came the stammer.

Harry understood quickly, him and Gia had landed in a large bathtub with a dry shower attachment in Luke’s hands, inside the drawn curtain, Luke with his blond hair stared at them.

“Accident,” Harry said.

“Accident?” Luke asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “We were going…elsewhere.”

“Starkers?” Luke asked.

“All the time,” Harry said, “Life’s better starkers.”

“Just like the game,” Luke replied.

“I’ve got an idea,” Gia said, before whispering into Luke’s ear.

“You’re joking?” Luke asked.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Nothing,” Luke said.

“Interested?” Gia asked Luke.

“I was going to take a shower,” Luke said, shaking the hand–held shower wand at them.

“We’ll help clean later,” Gia promised.

“That’s not making sense,” Luke said.

“Where’s this bed?” Gia said, “Or, should we do it in the park?”

“You’re serious?” Luke asked.

“Come on,” Gia replied.

Luke parted the curtain, they left the bathroom, turned into a small bedroom, with an oversized king mattress stuffed within, wall to wall.

“What?” Harry asked her.

“Celebrate, but I need more tongues,” Gia said, as she pushed Harry.

Harry fell backward onto the sheets, where Gia crawled over him. Her nipples dangled onto his chest, she began to kiss when he felt the tongue, Luke’s tongue, begin to lick the hard shaft. Tickling the balls and Harry felt like not moving, simply accepting as Gia’s hands held him, her tongue caressed onto his, and the extra tongue teased the foreskin.

Pfffpt!

Harry felt the tongue move, lick on the scrotum, reminded him that each testicle was there, hanging out, ready for use, the supportive wingman to the rod near her. Harry felt the hand grip the erection, tap the tip against her clitoris; he made it all out as his foreskin went over her sharp point, enticing him to let it go further, and he was about to when their moves made it clear that he was being guided tonight. His foreskin felt the folds for a moment, before it was placed against her vulva, and Gia lowered herself. Harry’s hips were lifted, the legs bent upward, as he felt the tip touch his anus.

“Enjoy,” Gia whispered to Harry.

Harry felt Luke’s hard shaft work inward; Gia flexed her hips. Harry felt the stimulation, of Gia riding the hard cock, while Luke pounded the arse. Her hands worked his loins, rubbed around, and onto the testicles, while her lips remained on his. Harry felt the rapid surge.

“He’s…” Gia said.

Harry’s cock spasmed as it released into her, it pumped, and kept pumping; even as Gia came off. A fountain of boyish magma geysered upward, pulse after pulse, coated Luke, Harry, and Gia; Harry’s ejaculation kept pouring upward. Luke held Harry’s pulsating ridge.

“Cool,” Luke said, “A magical orgasm—pretty rare.”

“Ta,” Harry said.

“Keep going?” Luke asked.

“Why not?” Harry replied.

Apart from being sticky, Harry didn’t mind, sharing it with them. Another drop, and it hit Harry’s mouth. Harry tasted his own seed, and gagged; his orgasm died down. He was relaxed.

“Where were you headed?” Luke asked.

“Home,” Harry said.

“And you happened here?” Luke asked.

“Stranger things have been known to happen,” Harry said, “Swear secrecy to this, Gia?”

Gia grabbed Harry’s wand, his Hogwarts pin, handed it over.

“You’re leaving?” Luke asked.

“He’s about to fall asleep,” Gia replied.

Harry realized she had him figured out, the drowsiness crept in before he activated the Portkey. Gia held on as he felt the jerk. A hoot of Hedwig confirmed they landed correctly, and Harry feel asleep.

* * *

Ash, meanwhile, had just witnessed Harry and Gia disappear a split second before Ginny came through the door, she was still starkers.

“Where’s Harry?” Ginny asked.

“Unavailable,” Ron stated.

“There’s a party, downstairs, for the _team_ ,” Ginny said.

“And Finnigan waiting to stab us in the back,” Ron said.

“After his friends were nearly murdered right in front of him, by _you_!” Ginny snapped.

“We were not at Hogwarts,” Ron said, “Fred or George can vouch for us.”

“They’re not exactly credible,” Ginny said, “Still, I’ll hex anybody who hexes you—come down, brother!”

“If they’re in a good mood, maybe we ought to,” Hermione said, setting Ron’s Portkey back down onto his desk, next to an old fake wand, “Actually, it’s a great idea.”

Ron’s todger swung as he walked for the door; Hermione and Ash followed. Ash studied their butts, Hermione’s hips, along with the bits of clean shaven flesh visible on Ginny; his erection was firm.

“So, what did happen?” Ginny asked, “Nobody expected Muggles on brooms.”

“Calling me nobody?” Ron said, as they entered the Gryffindor Common Room, where the Weird Sisters music played on the Wireless.

“You missed him, again?” Buck asked Ash.

Ash smiled, glanced at Buck’s freely hanging todger, one of a few, as the Gryffindor Quidditch team were still starkers. Ash leaned back against the wall, next to Buck.

“We are the champions!” Josh Brenner shouted as he stood on top of a table, shaking his bare buttocks, his hand shook his genitals, while working on a bottle of Firewhiskey.

“You did magnificent,” Colin said to Ginny, his chest bare, his white briefs didn’t protect his tent pole.

“Pretend,” Ginny said.

“Lets not confuse anybody,” Colin said, “It’s me.”

“Take it easy,” Ron said to Colin, glare at the eyes.

“Whoa, whoa!” Colin said, “I plan to treat her right, alright?”

Ron smiled at Parvati as she studied his hard erection.

“Ron,” Hermione whispered.

“Lets see what the survey says,” Ron said, as he approached Lavender Brown.

“Lovely,” Lavender Brown said.

“You get a pass, for tonight only,” Finnigan said, “For whatever hex you pulled on Slytherin was good work.”

“It wasn’t a hex,” Ron replied.

“Stop it, not here,” Buck said to Ash.

Ash removed his hand from Buck’s penis.

“No!” Natalie MacDonald said to Paul Prewett.

“We _won_!” Paul Prewett said, his intact penis hard and firm.

“Anybody else,” MacDonald said, “I choose—” Her finger pointed as she turned around, before she opened her eyes and the finger was pointed directly at Ash.

Buck pushed on Ash’s back, sent Ash the two steps needed to approach her. Natalie planted her lips onto Ash’s, and began to kiss. Ash felt her bare nipples pressed against his chest, her hands reached around his waist and pulled on his buttocks, his hard dick pressed into her narrow carpet, slid upward as his balls touched her. She pulled and pushed his buttocks, his shaft went across her skin, back and forth, his glans slipped out and dragged itself, stimulating. Her right hand slipped between their stomachs, held and teased his penis. Two moments later, a quiver, and Ash felt his orgasm rush to greet her; he ejaculated, his semen climbed up her stomach.

“You’re way too easy,” MacDonald said.

“That’s uncalled for,” Buck snapped.

“Fine,” MacDonald said.

“Our Captain, oh, our Captain!” came the chorus.

Ash glanced over at the sofa cushions on the table in the middle of the room. Hermione was on her side, starkers, leg being held up by Ron, who’s hard cock was pushed into her vulva. Ron thrusted, drilled, as the house watched, his erection doing its job. Ron’s free hand massaged her breast. Ron held it in, his pubic hair against her.

“There he blows!” exclaimed Josh Brenner.

Ron pulled out as he stood back up, semen dribbling from the tip of his hard cock.

“And the _Lady_ of the hour,” Ron said, as he pulled Hermione to stand up, bit of white drizzled on her.

Together, Ron led the bow, and Hermione followed, toward the house members, who clapped and cheered.

“Final score of the game,” Finnigan announced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Weasleys were harmed in the writing of this chapter.


	60. Abducted

Hermione’s muscles spasmed as she woke Sunday morning, to flaming red hair with those blue eyes looking down on her, wand drawn. She shivered as she was starkers, laid upon wet grass, with modest trees that loomed overhead, trees that did nothing to shield her from the drizzle from the dark clouds overhead.

“ _Cruicio_!” the boy spoke, wand aimed at her.

Hermione convulsed, writhed from the tormenting pain that visited every reach of her body. Giggling beside the red haired boy, stood a raven black haired boy. Wand moved, the pain went away.

“Harry…?” Hermione stammered.

More pain, and Hermione squirmed as the two boys in black Hogwarts laughed as her vulva opened, and she peed.

“Ron!” Hermione said, the red haired boy looked like him.

Instead, a flick of the wand, her words were silent, and she screamed, only the screams were audible as both of the boys laughed. Hermione recognized the wands, the fake wands that Harry and Ron had gotten ages ago, neither of these boys were Harry nor Ron. Hair, eyes, all realistic, but their mannerisms betrayed the impostors.

“Acutum Penile!” the raven haired boy spoke, wand drawn.

Conjured out of midair, a vibrating godemiche plunged downward toward her.

“Watch her squirm,” said the red haired boy, enthusiastically, before he flicked his wand, “ _Cruicio_!”

Hermione cried as the pain tore into her, before the vibrating dildo touched. Ice, shivering ice, flowed through her, as it penetrated between her folds. More pain radiated out, as the instrument within her began to generate an electric shock. Every muscle clenched, for a moment, her breaths stopped, her heart stopped, before she gasped for air.

“What she deserves for always bossing us around,” the raven haired boy snapped, “Filthy whore that she is.”

* * *

Meanwhile, back at Gryffindor Tower, Ron woke up in his bed, by himself, the indentation of Hermione noticeable as he got up. He glanced at Ash, Buck, and Gale asleep together on Harry’s four poster bed.

Odd of her to not be there, Ron thought to himself. He walked into the empty bathroom, peed into the toilet, returned.

“Good morning,” came the voice.

Ron glanced at Neville Longbottom, laid upon his four poster, white underwear over his butt, reading.

“Have you seen Hermione?” Ron asked.

“Like I’m supposed to talk to you,” Neville said, “No.”

“Must be in the library,” Ron said, before he walked to the table, with its breakfast. He figured the library had to be it, as they’ve generally been leaving Hogwarts for the weekends, she likely took advantage of the opportunity.

“Nice arrangement there,” Neville said.

“Practical,” Ron replied as he worked a cauldron cake.

“How did you sabotage Slytherin?” Neville asked.

“Trade secret,” Ron said.

“Harry’s sleeping with first years?” Neville asked.

“No,” Ron said, “Harry’s not sleeping there, they…at least one of them’s a worshipper.”

“We…um…” Buck started as he got out of the bed, walked over to Neville, “Most avoided bed in the castle, seemed safe.”

“You’re not…” Neville said, his eyes glanced at Buck’s erection, “Not being funny?”

“Therapeutic,” Buck said, “Helps Ash with his shyness—he’s my friend.”

“You’re naked,” Neville said.

“They’re always starkers,” Ron said, “Likely a Harry thing.”

“You—the game was your reason,” Neville said.

“Like we minded that!” Ron said as he stood, his flat stomach above the red pubic hair, “Nah, we got addicted to it, better way to be.”

“You’re popping,” Buck said.

“So?” Ron glanced down, now that eyes of the room were on it, his todger stiffened, throbbed as it did so. “Ow.”

“Overuse,” Buck said.

“Ain’t supposed to be showing it off,” Neville said.

Ash and Gale came over to the table, ate.

“It’s about attitude,” Ron said, “It’s attached, let it be—well, a good morning stiffy is a nice feeling.” He glanced at his foreskin retracting, the pink glans showed, before it throbbed again. Ron held it for a moment.

“You banged her again?” Buck asked.

“No,” Ron said, “Hermione’s—she takes persuasion. Now, Gia, she’s soliciting you.”

“So, you’ve banged Harry’s girlfriend?” Neville asked.

“I…” Ron started, before his entire hard erection throbbed, icy cold followed by an electric shock. “Ouch!”

“Are you alright?” Neville asked.

“Fine,” Ron lied.

“Good,” Neville said as he stood up, “Not exactly supposed to be talking with you.”

Neville quickly pulled on blue trousers, a shirt, his shoes, and left the dormitory.

“Same with us,” Buck said, “Though notice Ash’s pubic hair.”

Ron glanced at Ash’s crotch, where Ash’s fingers held the tiny strand.

“Congratulations,” Ron said, knowing that he’ll have more, soon enough.

Ash, Buck, and Gale left.

“Yeah,” Ron said, to nobody particular.

Pain enveloped his hard shaft, his balls. Ron clutched them as he fell back onto his four–poster, on his side, as his body tensed up from the soreness. For a moment, he felt the pressure in his bowels, the sudden urge, that he fought back, as House Elves or not, he didn’t want to poop his bed. His eyes scanned the floor for spiders that may have bitten him, when his eyes landed upon the sparkling gold, an earring of Hermione’s.

“Damn!” Ron exclaimed, realizing it was the tracer spell he had cast upon Hermione’s ring that was giving him pain, letting him know a Cruciatus Curse was being used against her, “Hermione!”

Pain mellowed out, lingered in his balls as a reminder, but seemingly content that he had gotten the message, that not only was Hermione not in his bed, that she was in trouble. He needed to know where, so he grabbed his wand, knelt next to Harry’s trunk, and riffled through its contents. Familiar piece of parchment, he muttered.

“I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good,” Ron said, tapping the map, “Show me Hermione.”

The map ignored him, simply moved around the various rooms.

“Where is Hermione Granger?” Ron asked.

It scrolled to the edges of Hogwarts, moved around, but it did not show him anything else.

“Rats!” Ron stammered as he ran over, grabbed his Portkey. Ron activated it, hoping that she had just slipped and fallen at her parents’ house.

As the Portkey pulled Ron away, the throbbing in his balls grew voraciously, objecting to him leaving, letting him know that Noigate wasn’t where she was. However, Harry was, and Ron figured it’d be good to have help. Ron curled on Gia’s bed after he landed, clutched his balls, the soft todger draped over his hands, and waited until the throbbing passed. Ron got up and went for the door.

“Harry!” Ron shouted.

“Down here!” came the reply.

Ron felt the soreness in his balls as they jostled while he went down the stairs.

“Hey, what’s up?” Harry asked.

Harry was sitting on the easy chair, feet on the edge, legs spread with his hard cock jutting upward. Gia was on the sofa, while Kristen was on the other easy chair, the fireplace had coals in it, with Snuffles on his back, belly getting rubbed by Kristen’s feet.

Ron wasn’t sure about sharing it with Kristen.

“Urgent matter at school,” Ron said, “Need him too.” He pointed at Snuffles. “Upstairs.”

“I’ll be back when I’m back,” Harry said.

Harry and Snuffles followed Ron back upstairs. Ron clutched his balls for a moment as the throbbing flared.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked as he closed the door.

Snuffles began to transform.

“No time, hurry,” Ron said, activating the Portkey.

He grabbed Snuffles, and felt the jerk behind the naval. Snuffles kept transforming as they were pulled fast toward Hogwarts, and landed on Ron’s four poster bed. Sirius walked over fast, locked the dormitory door.

“Explain!” Sirius demanded as Harry landed, Harry was still starkers with his wand and Portkey in hand.

“Hermione went to bed with me last night,” Ron said, “I checked the map—she’s not to be found, and I think she’s getting at least one Unforgivable on her.” He clutched his balls as the pain came back to them.

“Something the matter?” Harry asked, his bottle green eyes studying Ron’s hand holding the hairy scrotum, “Madam Pomfrey?”

“I need her scent,” Sirius said.

Ron rummaged through the clothes in his trunk, tossed a pair of lace panties at Sirius.

“Why, I didn’t realize you wore these,” Sirius said.

“Shove it,” Ron snapped.

“He’s starkers,” Harry commented.

“That tracer spell, on her ring,” Ron said as he rubbed his balls, again.

“Oh,” Harry said.

Harry grabbed the strap for his broom, slung his Firebolt onto his back, tucked his wand into the strap.

“You should put something on,” Sirius said to Harry, as Harry’s todger softened.

“It’s Sunday,” Harry said.

Ron grabbed his Firebolt, slung it onto his back, also tucked his wand into the strap.

“Got it?” Ron asked, watching Sirius smell her panties.

“Where’s your fake wand?” Harry asked, as he stood by his desk, “Mine’s not here.”

Ron glanced at his desk.

“Mine’s missing too,” Ron said, maybe it was coincidence.

“Where to?” Harry asked as he unlocked the door.

Sirius transformed, and Snuffles led the way out. Ron felt more throbbing as he followed. Harry grabbed the map as he followed. Snuffles sniffed at the steps, and they went down. Both sets of bare buttocks flexed, balls jostled, and their soft todgers swung beneath their pubic hair with each step.

Pfffpt!

“It’s hitting you in the bollocks?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Ron replied, his hand cradled his two lumpy wads of flesh, “Like getting punched—only worse!”

“Good to know,” Harry politely said as he adjusted his foreskin to fully cover his glans.

They left Gryffindor Tower, walked along the empty seventh floor corridor, with Snuffles still sniffing.

“What did Lupin say?” Harry asked.

“I didn’t think…” Ron held his balls, massaged to sooth out the throbbing.

Harry handed Ron the Marauders Map. Harry pulled his Firebolt off its sash, mounted it, leaned forward with his balls freely dangling between his legs, and flew down the corridor. Harry pulled a right, went behind the corner, when the shouting came echoing back.

“POTTER! NO FLYING IN THE CASTLE!” Professor Snape yelled, out of sight.

Snuffles kept sniffing.

Giggle

Parvati and Padma Patil walked by, paused, both made no secret of glancing at Ron’s soft todger, dangling there beneath his curly red pubic hair, Ron’s fingers teased his foreskin.

“Have you seen Hermione?” Ron asked as his pink glans peeked out.

Both grinned as Ron’s erection stiffened, jutted outward. They shook their heads, walked away while they glanced back at Ron’s bare buttocks. Ron bent over, mooned them, to even more giggling as they went through the portrait hole. Ron stood up, kept following Snuffles.

Pfffpt!

Ron glanced at the map some more, checked the library for another time, where Ginny and Colin appeared to be in a table together. They made it to the staircase, where a the irritated Professor Snape stood, glaring, as a blur came up the stairs.

“POTTER! FIFTY POINTS! LUPIN—!” Professor Snape yelled.

“Buzz off!” Ron shouted back as the blur became Harry, on his Firebolt, with Professor Lupin riding backside.

“You insolent fool,” Professor Snape said, his eyes glared at the starkers Weasley with dangling loose testicles beneath Ron’s hard cock, “I will see what the Headmaster has to say.”

Professor Snape’s robes billowed as he left fast, eyes that fast tried to disregard Harry’s soft todger. Snuffles, though, kept sniffing as they marched down the steps.

“Blimey!” Professor Lupin said, “Harry explained—how are you aware of her getting a Cruciatus Curse?”

“I recently gave her a ring with _Vincio Amor_ on it,” Ron said, “It’s a tracer spell, lets me know when…man, it really gets me in the—” Ron rubbed his balls, the dull pain rapidly softened his shaft, the soft todger draped over his fingers.

“She’s not on the map,” Harry said as he saddled up his Firebolt back onto the sash.

“Snatched out of _my_ bed,” Ron said, “I slept through it!”

“As much as…” Professor Lupin’s sullen eyes latched onto the dog collar on Snuffles, and broke out in hysterics. “Prongs Jr.. did indeed manage it! Your Dad would be so proud!”

Snuffles turned his head, growled at Professor Lupin for a moment, before taking them all the way down to the sixth floor.

“Severus is correct,” Professor Lupin said, “Professor Dumbledore must be informed. Keep working, and I’ll find help.”

Professor Lupin broke away from them, walked fast, to the next stairs, and vanished from their sight. Harry grabbed the map from Ron, studied it.

“Ow—ow!” Ron stammered, as he felt the sharpness of a knife, cut across him.

“That’s—?” Harry asked.

* * *

Sharp in the tip, the otherwise rusty blade left a deep cut as it ran across her skin, the red haired boy grinned as he pulled on the knife. Blood oozed out, while the raven haired boy dropped leeches. Hermione moaned.

“What better way to practice healing?” the raven haired boy said, “Gotta have something to heal first. Too warm?”

A small fire had a few coals a few feet away, sent a bit of warmth to Hermione, kept her skin from going completely numb. The Raven haired boy aimed his wand upward, the drizzle became a full, hard, rain, that washed a bit of the blood away.

“Stop playing with yourself!” the red haired boy snapped at the raven haired boy.

Raven haired boy moved his hand into his trousers, smiled.

“But, where are my manners?” the raven black haired boy said, “Gotta save it for that final moment. Realize that when you die, you don’t die all at once, it takes time for your body to go, after the mind’s given up. You, who spurned my advances, will have a final chance, soon, but first, lets play as we should. Knowing you, you won’t even pray for mercy.”

“You’re planning to do it?” the red haired boy said, “She’s mine!”

“You can have seconds,” the black haired boy replied, “Her dying heat will last long enough for two. As a loyal friend, you can spar her final bang.”

Red haired boy smiled, brought a hair clipper out, began to shave into Hermione’s pubic hair, the carpet started to disappear.

“Crucio!” the black haired boy snapped.

Hermione felt each nipple sear in hot pain, she tried to scream, but her voice had already been silenced.

* * *

“Not good,” Ron said, rubbing his nipples, the sharpness radiating from them, “Can’t we go any faster?”

“Got a better nose?” Harry asked.

“Got an idea,” Ron said, “DOBBY!”

Pop!

“Dobby happy to help Harry Potter,” Dobby said, “Harry Potter needs—”

“No!” Harry said, “I like it like this.”

“Harry Potter is not House Elf,” Dobby said, his big eyes pouring over Harry’s full nudity, the black pubic hair, the chest with the strap of the sling holding his Firebolt.

“Never mind that,” Harry said.

“Hermione’s missing,” Ron said, “Is she at Hogwarts?”

“Dobby finds out!” Dobby said as he snapped his fingers.

Pop!

Dobby vanished. They caught up to Snuffles on the fifth floor, passing the library.

“You restricted him to Hogwarts,” Harry said.

“I assumed the map was lying,” Ron said.

Snuffles stopped at a corner, a junction between two corridors, near the library. He sniffed down one, then the other, as a pair of third year Slytherins walked past, a boy and a girl. The boy’s eyes darted to avoid Harry and Ron, while the girl’s eyes surveyed their loose genitals.

“I thought the Slytherins had taken holiday,” Harry said as the Slytherins entered the library, “Must be broken.”

“Ummm…” Ron said, “It has happened before.”

“Wormtail knows—” Harry started.

“Don’t you dare suggest _that_!” Ron snapped.

Pop!

Dobby appeared, sullen eyes.

“Dobby apologizes,” Dobby said, “Dobby unable to find Granger. Dobby asked others, Dobby knows Granger is not on Hogwarts. Dobby checked magic, Dobby’s magic could not find Granger. Dobby wishes you to find Granger. Dobby’s so sad.”

“You did your best,” Harry said.

Pop!

“Harry!” Ron snapped.

“They did what they could,” Harry said, “I hope she’s alright too, but if they’re not finding her—”

“Don’t say it,” Ron snapped.

Ron knew what Harry was implying, that it could be beyond trouble, however, his balls were still throbbing, so she wasn’t…she wasn’t dead. Ron also dreaded how _that_ would feel on his balls, the ones he felt fingers on, fingers that weren’t present in the corridor.

* * *

Hermione felt the fingers exploring outside her shaved vulva, the red haired boy was crouched and straddled over her, trousers down, showed her the parted buttocks, his anus aimed at her. It was the same balls, the same todger, every detail as the Ron that she knew, as this boy gleefully played.

“Hurry up!” the raven black haired boy shouted at the red.

“It takes a moment,” the red haired boy replied.

Pfffpt!

“Here’s _help_!” the black haired boy said, flicked the wand.

Pfffpt! Pfffpt!

Hermione saw the brown sludge move out as the sphincter muscle dilated, the todger stiffened.

“You’re right, this _is_ good,” the black haired boy said as his hand dropped down his trousers, made it clear he was rubbing beneath as the red haired boy’s logs started to come out.

Warmth of the brown lent heat to her breasts, though she dreaded the thought of this boy’s dump staving off the hypothermia she knew she was having.

“Oh, yes, yes,” the black haired boy said for a moment, before he abruptly pulled his hand out, “Close, nearly got me, but…we’re saving that for later. She needs a cleaning from her _mess_!”

Red haired boy pulled up the white briefs, the trousers, turned around, and aimed the wand. Coldness, cold water poured across her, accelerated her coldness, the numbing of her nipples as the brown washed away.

“You could’ve done better,” the black haired boy said, “However, your fetishes are your fetishes.” He squatted next to her, his finger caressed her nipples. “So much…squandered beauty, these sticking herself into _my_ business, like she was any good as a friend. She’d best serve me by keeping her mouth shut. Well, these need a bit of help.” He stood back up, drew the wand.

Green flames engulfed her, but instead of heating her up, she got cold faster.

“You’re killing her!” the red haired boy said.

“If she won’t have me, then nobody can,” the raven black haired boy said, “Serves her for being a stupid know–it–all!”

“You said—” the red haired boy said.

“Oh, yes, my manners,” the black haired boy said, “I promised a warm corpse, unless you need a bit more time?”

“A few hours, at least,” the red haired boy said, “It’s a few final moments, after all.

The red haired boy dropped his trousers, the hard cock jutted outward, as he knelt over her. Hermione tensed up as the clitoris was tapped.

“Ow—ow!” the red haired boy exclaimed. He bounced back up, bright flame along the shaft of his hard cock as he danced.

“She did try, but she’s still a burden, so a wee bit of mercy,” the raven black haired boy said, “To make things pass easier for us, and for her.”

Hermione felt the blast from the wand, blacked out.

* * *

“Whoa, whoa!” Ron uttered, as his bollocks went numb as they left the castle, “HURRY!”

Clouds overhead, but otherwise pleasant, as they went down the steps. Professor Lupin came running.

“Sorry I took a while,” Professor Lupin said, “Professor Dumbledore is still in London for a rather long meeting with the Minister. Every other teacher, including Professor Tonks, had some excuse. I forgive Professor McGonagall trying to run the school by herself, but the others—”

“We’re not exactly popular,” harry said.

“As Finnigan said, we got a pass last night, because of the win,” Ron said, “Otherwise…”

“It’s a pity that none gave a damn about your predicament,” Professor Lupin said.

“Hagrid?” Harry asked.

“He was off dealing with some problem with the Centaurs,” Professor Lupin said.

“If we go into the forest, he’ll help,” Harry said.

“There’s more than one forest, Harry,” Professor Lupin said, “Forbidden Forest is ours, and the closest, for Hogwarts, but there are others that he normally doesn’t venture into.”

Ominous dark clouds crowded out the light, darkening it all as they crossed the grounds. They came to an unused gate, behind a bunch of overgrown shrubbery, at a forgotten edge of the grounds, over a hill and out of sight of the castle. Shiny metal of a bolt on the rusty latch propped the it unlocked, and ajar.

“Recent,” Professor Lupin said, “You’re sure about those…outfits?”

“She’ll recognize us better like this,” Harry said.

Ron wondered if Harry had a hunch. However, Harry also had a point, as she was likely starkers, they’d have nothing to save by the time they succumbed to the elements.

“Let’s go,” Ron said, pointing, “It ought to go faster.”

“Do you have a nose for scents?” Professor Lupin said as they went through the gate, into a far lesser traveled, bigger, and darker forest than the Forbidden Forest, “As to your brooms, you _might_ find her faster, but you’d also get lost faster.”

* * *

“I’ve got nothing against Muggleborns,” Finnigan said to Macmillan, in the Hufflepuff Common Room, “I mean, I’m halfblooded! That’s not the point. Here. Ashland!”

Ash froze, as he was leaning back against the wall, Buck and Gale were sitting at the table.

“Go ahead!” Buck exclaimed. Buck got up, pushed Ash toward the other table.

Some laughter, as Ash walked over to them.

“This is a most interesting one,” Finnigan said, “Ashland Hurley, won’t speak to you unless you…” Finnigan reached out, tickled Ash’s loose testicles. “Bit odd, but it’s like he’s judging you, through his bollocks.”

Macmillan snorted.

“Wish I had thought of that,” said Justin Finch–Fletchley.

“You want us to play with your bollocks?” Macmillan asked.

“As a last resort,” Finch–Fletchley said.

Finnigan laughed as Ash’s erection stiffened.

“He’s got pubes!” Buck shouted.

Ash blushed as Finnigan touched them.

“Yes he does,” Finnigan announced.

“You’re playing with his todger,” Macmillan said.

“You try it,” Finnigan said.

“Just be gentle about it,” Buck said, coming to stand next to Ash.

“You’re an expert,” Finch–Fletchley said.

“Have to be, if you’re to be his friend,” Buck said, “Right Ash?”

Ash smiled as Macmillan’s fingers teased the foreskin. Finch–Fletchley’s fingers rubbed the testicles, Dean Thomas’ joined in. Four sets of fingers, the shaft, the foreskin, the glans, and his slit were stimulated. Ash felt the quiver, held Macmillan’s shoulder as the surge started, and his off–white semen shot out, draped beads across all four of the hands. Ash relaxed.

“It works,” Ash said, “Dunno why.”

“The real trick, shutting him back up,” Buck said.

Ash gave Buck a light shove.

“You’re muggleborn, right?” Finnigan asked, “Muggle parents?”

“Think so,” Ash said, “Mother’s definitely not–magic. Don’t think Dad is, but I don’t really know him either.”

“And you adore Harry Potter,” Finnigan said.

“I…” Ash muttered.

“Knew it!” Thomas exclaimed.

Finnigan placed his hand beneath Ash’s lightly pink testicles, let them rest in the palm of the hand.

“Can you blame _him_?” Finnigan said, “Being brainwashed for years? He’s still naive, young, innocent.” Finnigan let go, while Macmillan reached over, held them. “See, he likes that, he’ll talk to you, say hello.”

“Hello,” Ash said.

“That it takes him a while to let go,” Finnigan said, “It’s tough, especially as sometimes Harry Potter pulls the charm, he’ll occasionally be super nice, only to turn around and—” Finnigan tapped Ash’s stomach “—knife you in the gut.”

“Harry’s not like that,” Ash said, “Unlike _you_ taking me into the Forbidden Forest!” Ash pulled back.

“I’m sorry!” Finnigan said, “I wanted you to feel part of Hogwarts!”

“It wasn’t funny,” Ash said.

“Neither is what Harry Potter’s doing to us all,” Finnigan said, “That’s why it’s good that his muggleborn friend quit.”

“What?” Ash asked.

“She left a note, quit Hogwarts,” Finnigan said, “Good riddance, if only we can get the other two—”

“NO!” Ash snapped.

Ash bolted, he ran. Out of the Hufflepuff Common Room, Ash ran up the steps, to the third floor, gave the password to the one eyed witch, and entered the passageway where Colin and Ginny were on the other side, starkers.

“Did you know?” Ash asked, “Hermione _quit_?”

“That’s not her,” Ginny said, bent over, as Colin had a Harry mask on, his hard cock inside her.

“I know!” Ash stammered.

Buck and Gale came up behind Ash.

“What’d you expect me to do about it?” Colin said, “I’m BUSY!”

“Won’t take long,” Ginny said.

“And, where is she?” Colin asked.

“Dunno,” Ash said, “Ron did ask where she was this morning.”

“If Ron doesn’t—be up in the Common Room shortly,” Ginny said.

“Fine!” Ash spat, turned around, left the passageway, and re–entered the third floor corridor. He marched along, unsure.

“I would have thought better of you, Nymphadora,” said Professor McGonagall.

“Tell that to Mr. Harry Potter!” Professor Tonks said, “I would have thought better of _him_!”

“Use your head,” Professor McGonagall said, “You know exactly the types who’d orchestrate a elaborate plan to frame him, and you know what it’s costing him! I feel safest with him around, even if he is starkers!”

“I enjoy his charm just as much as you do!” Professor Tonks said, “However, he’s been witnessed—”

“Could _you_ make yourself look like him?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“That’s besides the point,” Professor Tonks said.

“That’s _exactly_ my point,” Professor McGonagall said, “Those after Mr. Potter have the means and the motive! All they need is the opportunity, and they’ve got plenty of that! There have been _numerous_ occasions when Mr. Potter has been elsewhere **and** here doing that dirty business. Even I—come here Mr. Hurley.”

Ash came toward them. Professor McGonagall turned Ash toward Professor Tonks, gripped his shoulders.

“He’s one of the victims!” Professor McGonagall said, “Even Mr. Hurley could spot the fake, right?”

“Um…” Ash muttered, “Yes.”

“You concur this is the shyest boy in all of Hogwarts?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“About there,” Professor Tonks said, “There was one my year that never spoke.”

“That was the mandrake juice!” Professor McGonagall said, “Mr. Potter took Mr. Hurley under his wing, and now, Mr. Hurley is something I can work with. How he stumbled upon nudity, I won’t know, but it’s working. Mr. Hurley, thank you.”

“He can stay,” Professor Tonks said, her eyes glanced at the hard erection.

“Don’t flirt with the students!” Professor McGonagall said.

“When they flaunt, I see,” Professor Tonks said.

“We heard Hermione Granger quit,” Buck said, stepping forward.

“I’ve read hundreds of essays from every student,” Professor McGonagall said, “That handwriting was not hers, not even under duress. No, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter were under the impression that she has been abducted and is in danger. I thought atT least Professor Tonks here would have thought to gone looking, instead, neither Mr. Weasley nor Mr. Potter are at Hogwarts, Professor Lupin is with them.

“Hogwarts is supposed to be a location where one could always find help when they needed it. I’m severely disappointed that they did _not_ find that help today.”

“Where are they?” Ash asked.

“I do not know,” Professor McGonagall said.

* * *

Harry’s foot slipped, the mud carried him into the puddle covered by a deepening shadow.

“Whoa!” Harry shouted.

His bare butt hit the mud. Rain kept drizzling down from the clouds, the sloping hill had trees down it, the castle of Hogwarts had been hidden from them for hours, the sun stooping toward the horizon.

“You’re the one who insisted on searching starkers,” Professor Lupin said.

“At least I don’t have to clean my underwear,” Harry said as he stood up, cold mud dripped from the foreskin on his loose todger.

“Hazard in our line of work, always be ready with a good cleaning charm,” Professor Lupin said.

“It’s still numb,” Ron said, massaging his scrotum as they kept walking between the gloomy trees.

“ _Vincio Amor_ is a fickle enchantment,” Professor Lupin said, “I won’t be harsh, because I understand the desire, but the downside is the effects can incapacitate the caster.”

“He’ll manage,” Harry said.

Snuffles gave a low growl, they went quiet. A flicker of light among the trees ahead. Quieter and slower, they crept to the edge of a small clearing.

A small blue fire burned in the middle, while Hermione was strewn on the ground, starkers, face up. Though not gagged nor bound, she laid motionless as green flame danced on her breasts, flames that were jetting out of the wands of two boys with the same likeness as Harry and Ron. Unlike the Ron and Harry at the edge of the clearing, both of whom were starkers, these copies were laughing and grinning in their billowing black school robes with Gryffindor badges.

Ron and Harry grabbed their wands, aimed, as they charged into the circle. Ron tripped over a piece of firewood, in time to hear the distinctive pop. Both copies disapparated.

“Bloody hell!” Ron exclaimed, as he ran over to Hermione.

Ron knelt, his balls dangled as he reached to feel. Ron hesitated, before he forced his fingers to touch, as he felt the coldness of the skin. Professor Lupin conjured up a stretcher and blankets, before he joined Sirius.

“No, no!” Ron stammered.

“She’s got a heartbeat!” Professor Lupin said, as he and Sirius scouted the circle.

Harry grabbed the self–heating blanket and threw it onto her.

“Careful Harry,” Professor Lupin said, “She’s hypothermic at the moment.”

Professor Lupin assisted Harry in lifting her limp, unconscious body, onto the stretcher.

“Nothing!” Sirius exclaimed as he stopped searching, “Nothing that’ll help.”

“Carry the stretcher,” Professor Lupin said, “We need to get her back fast.”

“Fly,” Ron said.

“Don’t risk it!” Professor Lupin snapped.

“Time is of the—” Ron started to protest as he and Harry lifted the stretcher.

“Leave magic around the injured to a qualified Healer,” Professor Lupin said, “Too many casualties have occurred by those desiring to help.”

Sirius borrowed Harry’s wand, joined in Professor Lupin, as they repeatedly blasted the vegetation apart in front of them, allowing for them to make a fast trot back, over the outstretched feet of the hill, between the trees, back the way they had come.

“As much as I hate it,” Sirius said, “Their favorite slow, torturous, death gave us the chance.”

“They were deliberately—?” Ron asked.

“A cat will frequently play with its food,” Sirius said.

“Somebody’s going to know a slow and torturous death when I get the chance,” Ron stated.

“I seriously doubt you’re the type,” Professor Lupin said, “You’d have to destroy your heart first, and that’s not you.”

“Did we get her in time?” Harry asked.

“I hope so,” Professor Lupin said, “I hope so.”

“So, those were our impostors?” Ron asked.

“Nope,” Professor Lupin said, as ferns sailed up into the air, “They wore—”

“You should see them in town,” Sirius said, “Harry’s lost his shame.”

“I…” Harry said, “Felt…”

“So like James,” Sirius said, “When he and Lily—they couldn’t keep their clothes on either.”

Harry smiled, his soft todger stiffened.

“How much?” Professor Lupin asked.

“No hiding when he’s in heat,” Sirius said, “Sixteen—tough to control.”

Harry blushed.

“Hear that Harry?” Ron asked.

“Your biggest asset, Harry, is love,” Professor Lupin said, “I think that’s why Professor Dumbledore tolerates it, because it does everybody good.”

“Your nose isn’t as good,” Sirius said.

“You’ve got a better idea?” Professor Lupin asked.

“Yes,” Sirius said, “However, I’ll keep the Headmaster’s secret. Harry’s love is infectious, its even more so when he’s starkers.”

“There is this First Year,” Professor Lupin said.

“Ash?” Sirius asked.

“You know him?” Professor Lupin said.

Sirius and Professor Lupin kept talking as they walked as fast as they could.

* * *

It took an hour from the clearing to the gate, where Sirius transformed back into Snuffles. A half hour later, and they entered the castle as the sun dropped beneath the lake; they entered the Hospital Wing.

“Bed three Mr. Potter,” said Madam Pomfrey as she quickly put her Healer cap while walking out into from her office. Her eyes landed on the group, Harry taking the lead with his soft todger dangling from the dark pubic hair, Ron carrying, with Professor Lupin seemingly supervising.

“Remus?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“Assaulted and hypothermia,” Professor Lupin said as Harry and Ron moved Hermione onto bed number three.

“Pepperup—orange cabinet, third shelf,” Madam Pomfrey ordered as her wand started moving over Hermione, “You all take a sip. Examinations are needed for you—”

“What?” Harry protested.

“I’m obligated to check all of you,” Madam Pomfrey said, as her other hand felt Harry’s cold skin, “Yes, all of you.”

“Will she make it?” Ron asked as Professor Lupin returned with the Pepperup Juice.

“I would’ve been better if you came straight here,” Madam Pomfrey said as she poured out a capful.

“We did,” Harry said, “She was very far out there.” Harry took a sip, steam poured out of his ears, and he handed the bottle to Ron.

“You ought to have been dressed,” Madam Pomfrey said while pouring the cap down her throat, “To go out there—”

“Tell that to her attackers,” Harry said.

“I’ve got to…later,” Professor Lupin said as he and Snuffles left the Hospital Wing.

Harry felt her wrist, felt Hermione’s pulse, smiled. His todger stiffened, the hard erection jutted outward as the foreskin retracted.

“Glad you’re happy,” Madam Pomfrey said, her eyes flickered over to glance at the exposed pink glans.

“She’s feeling better,” Harry said.

“Likely, not a moment too soon,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Definitely didn’t want to resort to that old wive’s tale about seed of the lover.”

“What?” Ron asked.

“It’s inappropriate,” Madam Pomfrey said, “To think, rubbing it in would wake somebody from a hypothermic coma—ridiculous! She’ll warm up and wake in a short while. I have some correspondence to get back to, so keep an eye on her.”

Madam Pomfrey flicked the wand, the privacy screens surrounded them.

“Seed of her lover?” Ron said as he stood over her, “Wanna try?”

Harry, though, moved behind Ron, reached around, felt the stomach.

“It’s…her…” Ron started as Harry massaged Ron’s lumps.

“These were—she’s _not_ going to be interested,” Harry said, “Not tonight.”

“True,” Ron said, he relaxed as Harry’s fingers held each testicle.

“We’re both her lovers, are we not?” Harry asked.

“Think Madam Pomfrey just meant one,” Ron said.

“It’ll be better this way,” Harry said.

Ron understood what Harry meant, as the shaft pushed inward, between his buttocks, as Harry’s hard cock penetrated. A push, a pull, and the dread of discovery, as he leaned over Hermione, knowing she’d appreciate watching, as Harry banged Ron in the arse. Coordinated, Harry reached around, massaged Ron’s stiffness, while the one in the arse kept moving. A touch to the fulcrum, Harry knew Ron’s hardness, and Ron felt the spasms. One surge after the next, Ron’s off–white semen went across Hermione, he rubbed her breasts.

“What the—?” Hermione stammered, her brown eyes opened.

“It worked,” Harry said.

“Stay away—” Hermione said, “You…sorry, I’m getting confused.”

“Madam Pomfrey!” Ron shouted.

Harry pulled out as Madam Pomfrey came in.

“Fast—you didn’t—” Madam Pomfrey said, before her eyes saw the smear, “So, it does work.”

“If wanking cures her, I’ll happily wank,” Ron stated.

“Of course he would,” Hermione said.

“The Headmaster will certainly like to see you,” Madam Pomfrey said, as she waved her wand over Hermione, “And you’ll want extra rest tonight.” A second wave, pajamas came over, and Hermione promptly put them on.

“Come on,” Harry said, holding out his hand.

Hermione shook her head, but did stand up. Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the Hospital Wing, walked up to the second floor, stepped onto the ascending stairs, and knocked at the door.

“Enter!” came the familiar voice.

They entered. Professor Dumbledore was sitting behind the desk and his eyes were not winkling. Professors Lupin, Tonks, and McGonagall were also there.

“Let us start with Miss. Granger,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“I went to sleep last night only to wake up—” Hermione gestured outside “—out there. Those impostors, they looked like Harry and Ron, but they did not behave like Ron nor Harry. They repeatedly used the Cruciatus and the Imperius curses. They forced…self pleasuring and indecent acts. They attempted to rape me—nice charm Ron. They knocked me out, I didn’t wake until I was in the Hospital Wing.”

“Charm?” Professor Lupin asked.

“That ring—there was also a chastity charm,” Ron said.

“Ouch,” Professor Lupin said.

“Speaking from experience?” Professor Tonks asked.

“Return to the matter at hand,” Professor Dumbledore said, the eyes focused on Ron.

Ron understood.

“After … er… last night,” Ron said, “I woke up to her missing, and the pain from the ring let me know she was suffering an Unforgivable. Once I realized that she had been abducted, I got Harry, and…you know, to go looking.”

“Abducted from Gryffindor Tower implies—” Professor McGonagall said.

“Another explanation may surface,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“After a bit of encouragement,” Professor Tonks glanced at Professor McGonagall, “I made inquiries regarding possible suspects within Hogwarts. for instance, Mr. Malfoy made periodic stops in at the library today, while Mr. Finnigan served his afternoon detention with Professor Sprout.”

Professor Dumbledore studied the harried group there.

“First, you are a true Gryffindor, Miss Granger, for recognizing them as impostors,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I conversed earlier with Remus and Nymphadora regarding their observations. I am still puzzled as to why.”

“Perhaps they wanted to break us up,” Harry said.

“You are formidable as a group,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Still disturbing.”

“Hermione and I will be commuting—” Ron said.

“What?!” Hermione said, “That’s not necessarily—”

“You were kidnapped from my bed, next to me!” Ron said, “You are not safe sleeping at Hogwarts! We’re commuting!”

“Commute, Hermione,” Harry said.

“Unfortunately, Mr. Weasley’s suggestion sounds proper,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I despise today as the day a student no longer feels safe sleeping in this castle.”

“Do not be tardy,” Professor McGonagall said.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the office.

“Come on,” Ron said, reaching for her hand. Hermione withdrew it.

“No,” Hermione said, “Lead the way.”

They returned to Gryffindor Tower, to the dormitory.

“And you just _had_ to rescue me starkers, right?” Hermione snapped.

“How else would we rescue you?” Harry asked as he activated his Portkey.

Hermione and Ron touched, they were pulled back to Noigate, landed on Gia’s bed. Harry left the bedroom.

“Madam Pomfrey said sleep,” Ron said, as he pointed to the bed.

“I…if they were starkers, they’d be just like you were,” Hermione said.

“Oh,” Ron muttered, understanding that there’s damage that Madam Pomfrey won’t be able to heal.

Harry and Gia came back.

“Something happened?” Gia asked.

“A moment,” Hermione said.

Harry and Gia went back out.

“I spent a day trying to persuade myself they weren’t you,” Hermione said, “Because I know they weren’t, but their faces, just like yours, so…we’re not sharing the bed, not tonight.”

“Not by yourself,” Ron said.

“Her,” Hermione said.

“Okay,” Ron said, “I’ll wait to kiss you in the morning.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said, “Thank you for coming after me.”

“What are friends for?” Ron said, “Later.”

Ron left the bedroom, Gia entered. Harry accompanied Ron down the stairs.

“Ready for bed?” Ron said, “Where?”

“Sofa works fine,” Harry said, “Not yet.”

They went up the spiral stairs, out onto the roof deck. Harry twisted the knob, the bubbles came on the hot tub, and they entered.

“Thank you for helping,” Ron said, pulling Harry to lean back against him.

“She’s my friend too,” Harry said.

Ron’s right hand reached around, held the tip of Harry’s hard shaft, the glans between Ron’s fingers.

“You just wanted to…” Harry said.

“Say thank you,” Ron said.

Ron felt the soft, spongy glans, the slit, as he massaged Harry’s hard shaft.

“They really looked like us,” Harry said.

“That’s what we’re up against,” Ron said.

Harry sighed, relaxed, as Ron’s fingers worked the balls, the shaft, the glans. Harry breathed deeply; Ron put his finger against the ridge of the hard erection, felt the pumping start up.

“You’ve…” Harry started.

“Learned your dick too,” Ron replied.

Ron felt the stickiness surge out, the shaft that began to soften, as Harry went limp. Ron held Harry tight as Harry’s eyelids fluttered closed and began to sleep. Ron waited a few minutes before he put Harry into a fireman carry and brought him down so both could sleep next to the fireplace.


	61. Noticing

Rage enveloped Hermione, at the pair of fleshy lumps hanging above her. Round, defined, contained in the scrotum beneath the ridge of the hard cock. Red hair on this pair between the legs straddling her head, as the sharpness tore at her, a knife felt like burning as it carved through her labia, a surge and her stream within surged. His face, his mouth began to sputter as she peed onto his face. Tingling of an electric shock started as he plunged the knife inward.

“If I can’t have you than nobody can!” the boy exclaimed, his head between her propped up legs.

Searing pain in her vulva swept with the tingling, radiated outward; her bladder continued emptying, while her bowels quenched.

Pfffpt!

“Eww…” the boy muttered as she felt the expulsion of her first stool, her bowels really moved.

She found the relief of her dump gave her a small respite, despite the tingling and the searing pain that was enveloping her body. Her feet became cold, numb, she lost the sensation in those, her feet, and it swept upward. As the last of her sludge left her, the coldness enveloped her butt, her chest, her nipples, before she faded.

Hermione woke, sweating, beneath damp sheets. Gia, next to her, was stroking her ear lobe. Hermione smelled it, the foul stench that reminder her of her nightmare. She rolled off, walked out the door. She went through Richard’s bedroom, onto the roof deck, beneath the night sky.

“Can’t sleep?” Richard asked as he followed her.

She glanced at him under the light of the waning moon, with his smooth chest, the stiffening circumcised erection.

“Something like that,” Hermione said as she stepped over the railing, let her feet and legs soak in the calm warm water, but she remained standing.

“Here,” Richard said, stepping forward. He twisted the knobs, the bubbles began to form.

“I…sorry,” Hermione started, the bubbles felt a bit like tingling.

Richard twisted the knob back, the bubbles stopped. Her eyes locked on, studied the hard erection, with the glans and its slit, beneath the brown pubic hair.

“What did happen yesterday?” Richard asked as he stepped in, sat on the edge, “Ron said there was a crisis, next thing I see is Harry and Ron sleeping in the living room, with you and Gia in bed.”

Hermione glanced at his fingers, as the hands dropped below his dick to rest on his thighs, beneath the tip jutting out toward her. She sat on the ledge, brought her feet up, though her legs spread.

“And you’ve shaved—” Richard started.

“It was _them_!” Hermione snapped.

“Sorry,” Richard replied.

“Not Harry nor Ron, I know _that_ ,” Hermione said, “They have…doppelgangers at school. Those are the ones that took me, as I was sleeping, into the woods, and did this.”

“They raped you?” Richard asked.

“They tried, only reason they couldn’t? Ron’s charm,” Hermione said, “Didn’t do much, just kept them from actually getting in with their—” she motioned to Richard’s hard cock “—but not much more, because their fingers and everything else went in. Still, it was the _only_ thing I had going for me.”

“Sorry to hear this,” Richard said, “That’s not right—what’s going to be done?”

“I suppose the Headmaster will conduct an investigation,” Hermione said, “Or ask the ministry for help.”

“Mum could help,” Richard said.

“If it happened here, sure,” Hermione said, “Up there, they took my ugly butt—”

“You’re not ugly,” Richard said, “Far from it, I mean, both Harry _and_ Ron are into you.”

“I help them with their homework,” Hermione said.

“I’ve been running with Harry every morning,” Richard said, “He sees the beauty within you, trust me. If you love a person, it’s because they have beauty, and he loves you. I…lets see.”

Richard’s right fingers curled beneath his shaft, while the thumb went over it, and he began to vigorously stroke. His eyes surveyed, the head, the nipples, her shaved pubic.

“You forgot to wipe…” Richard started.

Richard exhaled, relaxed, as the shaft began to pump. Hermione realized what his comment meant as his seed shot out, he dribbled.

“Ta,” Richard said.

Hermione, though, ran back inside, though Richard’s bedroom, to Gia, where the lights were on.

“I thought Harry’s bed–wetting was bad enough,” Gia said as she started to pull the sheets, the ones with a large, brown pile, her pile of droppings.

“Sorry, I thought it was just in the nightmare,” Hermione said, “Step aside.”

Hermione went over to the bookshelf, saw and grabbed Harry’s wand, aimed it. Gia let go, as Hermione cast the magic.

Poof!

Quickly, flames enveloped the sheets, turned them into ash, along with her sludge.

“Oops,” Hermione said as she put the wand back, “Was supposed to be just a clean, his wand’s a tad temperamental.”

“Washing machine’s now safe,” Gia said, as she grabbed the new sheet.

“I’m sorry,” Hermione snapped.

“You alright?” Richard asked, as he stood in the doorway, eyes on Hermione, while his slit on the softening todger was still oozing, a descending pendulum of semen clung from it.

“I’m fine!” Hermione snapped.

Hoot!

No sooner than she had her left arm free, Hedwig leapt, put her talons on the skin. Hermione stroked the feathers.

“What’s going on?” Ron asked, as he stepped into the doorway. Slightly taller than Richard, Ron’s chest was broader, fuller, the straight red hair on his head rarely needed combing, his blue eyes on Hermione. Nearly reflexively, Ron’s left fingers teased his foreskin, the pink glans slipped out of the sheath as the todger stiffened.

“I don’t think you’re getting any,” Richard said to Ron.

“Nothing,” Gia said to Ron.

“Ready?” Harry asked, stepping up behind Richard.

Hoot!

Harry pushed slightly, his slender frame squeezed between Richard and Ron, his todger soft, as he walked over to Hedwig’s perch. He took out an owl treat. Hedwig flew back.

“Lisa’ll be disappointed,” Richard said to Harry.

“You and Ron have fun,” Harry said to Hermione, “See ya in a bit. Hedwig!”

Hedwig followed Harry as he and Richard left, buttocks flexed.

“Wanna get started?” Ron said, as he grabbed his Portkey and wand, “Do it before we get there?”

“No!” Hermione snapped.

Ron activated his Portkey, she held on.

“I know…I mean, what really happened yesterday?” Ron asked as they landed.

“Do I really have to explain it?!” Hermione demanded. Her eyes flickered to that hard erection, jutting out of him, beneath the curly red pubic hair, both loose testicles dangled, however, her mind focused on the stiffness, kept wanting to think that it was a knife instead, one that pierced into her. “I’ll be in class!”

Hermione grabbed her book–bag, started for the door.

“Wait up for me,” Ron said.

Hermione glared at Ron, with his pink glans exposed at the end of his hard cock.

“How dare you suggest that I can’t handle myself!” Hermione stammered, she grabbed her _Daily Prophet_ before she left the dormitory.

Hermione quickly went down the steps, only to go up the others, into the girls’ dormitory, to her four–poster. She glanced at the mirror, at her smooth crotch, the one forcibly shaven.

“How do you think I feel?” Ron asked as he entered, still starkers with a primed and eager hard erection. However, hastily stuffed clothes were overflowing from his book–bag. “My best–friend stolen from right beside me?”

“You imply property—” Hermione started.

“A treasure, perhaps, but still my friend,” Ron said, “At least we got you back. Can we repair the damage?”

“I…” Hermione stammered, “Got a checkup.”

Hermione grabbed her clothes from her trunk, sorted them into her book–bag, left the dormitory. Ron followed, his hard dick swayed, his balls jostled, as he pursued.

“I’m coming along,” Ron stated.

They entered the Gryffindor Common Room.

“How was the Potter surprise?” came the retort from Parvati Patil.

“Like he even has to ask,” Finnigan stated.

Ron and Hermione left Gryffindor Tower.

“They even think it!” Hermione snapped.

“Whoa! Whoa!” Ron exclaimed.

“You—” Hermione protested.

“This way,” Ron stammered. His hand tugged on hers, pulled her into the girl’s bathroom.

“You just want to—” Hermione started.

“What makes you say that?” Ron asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the obvious, with his hard dick still up, still aimed, the glans flared, hinted that his interest was keen.

“Oh, that,” Ron stuttered, his eyes flickered downward, as if he realized the message his todger was saying. “Yeah, can’t lie there, pretend that I’m not interested, when I am, I’d love to, but you’re not okay with it, so it’s not touching you, despite how pretty…” His eyes moved, took her in, her nipples bared toward him, the shaved pubic. “I’ve got an idea.”

“Brilliant,” Hermione said, sarcastically.

She watched his left hand reach toward her right hip, only to deflect to her book–bag, where he pulled out a brassiere.

“Your dignity was stolen,” Ron said as he brought it up to cover her breasts, “Wrap you back up. And when you want to let me back in, you know what to do.” He reached around, did the snaps. “Need me to do it all for you?”

Hermione let out a quick snort, a small laugh.

“I do need to take care of this,” Ron said as he stepped back. His right hand wrapped itself around his hard shaft, began to stroke vigorously.

“We’re in the middle of the girls’ lavatory,” Hermione said.

“I don’t mind if they walk in,” Ron said, “Go ahead, dress.”

“You’re going to watch,” Hermione stated.

“Here,” Ron said, as his left hand grabbed her panties, handed them over. His right hand slowed down a tad, kept stroking.

“You’re…” Hermione started, before she figured he was right, best to dress in Hogwarts. She stepped one leg at a time, into the pink panties, pulled them up.

“Shirt?” Ron asked.

Hermione, though, grabbed her socks, put those one, one at a time, before she grabbed her trousers, the anti–wrinkling charm did their work, kept them crisp. She slid those one, one leg at a time. She put on her shoes.

“You’re still wanking,” Hermione said, glanced at his right fingers working his flesh..

“I know,” Ron replied.

Hermione put her shirt on, her tie, before she put on her school jumper, with its Gryffindor badge on it. Ron twisted his torso a bit, aimed his hardness to the side, as he leaned in to kiss her. Hermione’s left hand entertained her curiosity, though she knew what he was about to do, her fingers felt the ridge beneath the stiffness. He smiled, grinned, as the spasms started. She felt the fast surge push outward, as he sighed.

“I was dressed,” Hermione stated, her eyes glanced at what she had seen before, his off–white semen dripped steadily from his slit to join the small puddles on the tile floor.

“I first fell in love with a dressed Hermione,” Ron said, “You’ve got a pretty face, enough to go on, though your touch was nice.”

Ron grabbed his boxers from his book–bag and wiped his softening tip.

“You _used_ me,” Hermione seethed.

“That’s part of being in love, remember?” Ron said as he quickly dressed, “You need time, we’ll go to Madam Pomfrey, have her write us up an excuse—”

“And skip class?” Hermione said, “No way.”

“You _need_ help,” Ron said, “It was—”

“I had an appointment with her, remember?” Hermione said, getting the strong urge to leave, “Don’t worry about me.”

Hermione bolted, ran. Ron pursued, followed fast. Footsteps chased them, Harry caught up by the time they entered the Hospital Wing.

“This is to be a _private_ examination,” Hermione stated, not eager to share it with them, “If you need something titillating, here.” She handed Ron  The Daily Prophet .

Madam Pomfrey waved Hermione over, to a bed with a privacy screen around them.

“I would like to check the wounds,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Hermione pulled off the shirt, the brassiere that she had just put on a few moments earlier.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked.

“Listen, she’s just being—” Ron started.

“What?!” Hermione demanded as she dropped her panties.

“Read,” Harry said.

Madam Pomfrey brought her wand over Hermione, felt around her nipples.

“You’re always doing that,” Hermione said as the nipples firmed up.

“A full examination is a full examination,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Even the best of Healing spells cannot beat a simple old fashioned feel when it comes to finding the unexpected. The most sensitive areas also tend to be the first affected when things are amiss.”

“Do them next,” Hermione said, feeling a bit mischievous.

“Any reason that I should be made aware of?” Madam Pomfrey said.

“I won’t lie and make one up,” Hermione said.

Madam Pomfrey examined the clitoris, the labia, and Hermione blushed. Shaven down there made her feel particularly naked, exposed.

“Do you need something?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“I had…they shaved me,” Hermione said, “I’d like it back.”

“I’ve got just the thing,” Madam Pomfrey said, as she waved her wand. A jar of green jelly flew through the curtains. “Apply three times a day for a week, it’ll coax it back out.”

“Ta,” Hermione said, as the label filled in her name as the patient.

Hermione put her brassiere back on, first, her shirt, and dressed. She left the screen.

“Took your time,” Ron said, “Could’ve done it faster.”

“I know what you’d say,” Hermione said. She didn’t have to tell him that his prescription would end with his cock insider her, squirting.

“Easy,” Harry said, as they left the Hospital Wing, “You should be aware.”

Hermione took The Daily Prophet back. Ron began to read the top article.

Monday, 4 November, 1996

Bert Renews Contract with Wizarding Quidditch Network

“Bert” Louis Peters renewed his contract with Wizarding Quidditch Network, one of a pair of colourful hosts, and is looking forward to voicing every match. Bert is always rooting for the underdog, like Puddlemere United in their opening match against the Falmouth Falcons on Saturday.

“Not that one,” Harry said, pointed to one toward the bottom of the page, “Here.”

Hogwarts Under Investigation

After receiving some disturbing reports regarding Hogwarts and their coverup in some recent events, the Minister for Magic, Victor Fallerschain, has promised a thorough investigation. This represents a renewal in trying to bring accountability to the United Kingdom’s prestigious crown educational jewel.

“Hogwarts enjoys a generous allocation on the budget,” the Minister said, “The wizarding world is owed an explanation to where their hard earned Galleons are going, how it’s being squandered in an attempt to appease a single student. This has to stop, for the benefit of every pupil in attendance.”

While the Minister refused to name the particular student, The Daily Prophet firmly believes this to be a rather infamous person who is garnishing a reputation of terrorizing his fellow schoolmates.

“Harry _is_ a drain,” Hermione said.

“Pardon me?” Harry asked.

“How much _are_ they spending on you?” Hermione asked, her eyes stared at those bottle green eyes. Even though they weren’t the ones of yesterday, the ones who were irritated, they were close enough. “What’s our schedule?”

They went fast, to Professor McGonagall’s office, knocked as the entered.

“Greetings,” Professor McGonagall said, as she handed over their schedules for the week, “You were obviously _not_ in the Great Hall.”

“We avoid that,” Harry said, as Ron handed a schedule over.

“Out of sight, out of mind,” Professor McGonagall said, “It’d do you good to have them witnessing you in the normal affairs.”

“After she was kidnapped, yesterday?” Ron asked.

“Unless you’re accusing students of perpetrating that,” Professor McGonagall said, “Please, use the Great Hall.”

Harry sighed as he glanced over his schedule. “Potions, again?”

“Professor Snape has much to offer,” Professor McGonagall said, “Good day.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione left.

“A bitch bitches,” Ron snapped.

“Bitch?!” Hermione stammered. Her nerves flared, a little too close to the impostor of yesterday.

“You heard me,” Ron stated.

“Next time, don’t bother searching!” Hermione snatched her schedule from his hands, walked fast.

“Don’t bother?” Ron stuttered, as he and Harry followed.

They went down the steps, to the ground floor corridor, where Hagrid beamed from next to the Dragon Nest. Smoke, steam, billowed out from beneath the door crack. Behind Hagrid, was a corridor of straw, and wheelbarrows.

“What’s this?” Malfoy asked, “Steam cleaned laundry while we stand here?”

“I don’t trust that smile,” Finnigan said.

“Me neither,” Ron whispered. Harry snorted.

“Professor Snape asked for a bit of potion related things and the House Elfs objected,” Hagrid said, “Therefore, it’s up to us.” He grabbed a pitchfork. “Simple, their bedding needs changing, and gather the…fertilizer.”

“Hagrid, at last!” came the plea, as Professor Dana Caldwell ran toward them.

“Yes?” Hagrid asked.

“Nifflers were let loose into my office,” Professor Caldwell said, “Before my silver is gone—”

“Class, get to work,” Hagrid said, before he followed Professor Caldwell and left.

“I’m not going to—it’s beneath me,” Malfoy said, as he walked, left.

“Hate to agree with,” Finnigan said, “Better than being alone with _them_.”

Finnigan led the crowd, that left Harry, Ron, and Hermione as the only ones standing there. Harry reached for the door handle.

“You mad?” Ron asked.

“Hagrid asked for help,” Harry said, “Let’s help.”

Harry striped as he entered the nest, the dragons were larger than them, a burst of flame onto the water trough, and more steam. Ron dropped his trousers, tossed them onto his bookbag.

“Hermione?” Ron asked.

“No,” Hermione said.

“You’ll roast like that,” Harry said, “Unless you want to let Hagrid down.”

“A cooling charm—” Hermione reached for her wand.

“No!” Harry said, as he moved fast to hold her hand steady, “You know how dragons react to magic—not well.”

“It’s just us,” Ron said.

“I know,” Hermione said.

“Strip or skip,” Harry said, sweat already giving a gleam to his hide, “I won’t have you roasting.”

“Besides—they’ll trust us,” Ron said.

“Nice try,” Hermione said, as she pulled her shirt, her trousers, “No further.”

“Fine,” Ron said.

Ron took a glance, his testicles loosened lower, the todger stiffened, and he grabbed a pitchfork. Hermione stepped back, put her back against the stonewall, and lowered herself. As her thighs came to contact Ron’s bookbag, she removed her panties, sat her bare buttocks onto the warm stone floor. After a moment, she grabbed his boxers, lifted her buttocks enough to slide them beneath her, and sat on those.

“They all cut—all of them except us,” Ron said to Harry as Ron loaded a pitchfork beneath the green Maverick.

“Sure, it’s work,” Harry said, “But—for the dragons here? Worth it.”

Hermione touched her clitoris, rubbed it slightly. Her eyes were on these two boys, who looked identical to the ones of yesterday, but she paused. She didn’t feel the stimulation of old, the passion wasn’t the same, despite seeing Ron’s broad shoulders move to shovel the manure.

“Where’d the…erm…fertilizer for Snape, go?” Ron asked.

“Down his pants,” Harry said, “He’s so full of it, like it’d matter.”

Hermione realized that things had changed. With both Harry and Ron, working up a sweat like this, she should have already felt the orgasm, but she didn’t. These were her best friends, both toiling in sweat, with their bare buttocks facing her way many times, full moonings if it were deliberate.

“Watch this!” Harry shouted.

Harry aimed his penis upward, fingers held onto his foreskin as the glans came out. Yellowish, but mostly clear, Harry’s urine jetted with an upward slope, away from him.

Poof!

Maverick belched flame, and before Harry’s stream had a chance, it vaporized. Ron laughed, Harry chuckled, and Hermione felt a brief grin.

“Did she even notice?” Ron’s eyes went from Harry’s to hers.

“She’s…not herself,” Harry said.

“Yeah,” Ron said as he proceeded to ram his pitchfork into the old straw.

Hermione appreciated the save, watched Ron’s back muscles flex as he lifted it, dumped it into a wheelbarrow. Hermione tried pushing her finger into her vulva, though it felt normal, she flinched, pulled it back, reminded her of yesterday.

“About full,” Harry said, his jet black pubic hair matted back from the sweat.

Harry grabbed the handles, hauled the wheelbarrow out of the classroom. Ron’s eyes turned to her, still sitting on his boxers on the floor, vulva wide open, her brassiere collecting the sweat from her nipples.

“Those monsters?” Ron asked.

Hermione kept quiet.

“We’ll figure this out,” Ron said, “I’ll help you, I promise you _that_.”

“Hagrid!” Harry said, “We started without you.”

“I should’ve known,” Hagrid said, his eyes surveyed them as he entered, “Good job, keep up the good work.”

Hagrid grabbed the largest pitchfork, scooped up more straw. Hermione felt more at ease with Hagrid there, despite her vagina showing, and so she undid the brassier, hoped it’d dry before the end.

“Hermione?” Hagrid asked.

“She’s—supervising,” Harry said, “I mean, only takes me and Ron, but she’s making sure we don’t overwork ourselves.”

Hermione appreciated Harry’s cleverness at coming up with excuses.

“Go get a shower before your next class,” Hagrid said, “Extra credit for helping.”

“No sweat,” Harry said, his forehead covered in it.

“My things?” Ron asked as he stepped in front of her.

Hermione saw the hard erection there, the sweat rolling off, through the forest of his pubic hair, to drip from both the foreskin on his tip and the loose balls hanging rather low. Panic began to grip her, that his stiffness jutting toward her could not be trusted.

“Oh, yeah,” Hermione said, as she moved fast.

Hermione bolted, ran, up the stairs and corridors, nearly flew through the Fat Lady, before her eyes darted between the stairs, left for the girls or right for the boys.

“Right,” Ron said, coming in fast behind her. He patted her bare buttocks, and she kept running, up the right.

Hermione entered the sixth years’ boys dormitory, ran into the shower. Hot water, it worked its way into her, and she felt the release, began to pee as Ron came in.

“You!” Hermione snapped.

“I need the shower too,” Ron said, “And to…” Ron gripped his todger, aimed it toward the wall. Hermione understood what he was about to do, her rage took over.

“Out,” Hermione said, “Wait _your_ turn!” She hadn’t before.

“Alright,” Ron said, “Get ya a change—same color?”

“Out!” Hermione barked.

Ron left the shower.

“Hold up, wait,” Ron said, out of sight. Hermione figured it was to Harry because she wasn’t intruded upon.

She realized she’d changed, the incident the day before had changed her, just a bit, less trusting of Harry and Ron. She washed herself, rinsed, and grabbed a towel. She went out into the empty dormitory, neither Harry nor Ron were there; only Harry’s book–bag was. Hermione held the towel tight, went out the door, and down the stairs.

“Oh…nice, you’re…pretty,” Finnigan said, with his full school uniform on, as she reached the bottom, his eyes on her, “Can you believe Parvati likes his todger better than mine?”

Slap!

Hermione’s hand recoiled fast, and she bolted up the left stairs, to the top, into the sixth years girls’ dormitory.

Giggle!

Hermione glanced at her bed, with two book bags, hers and Ron’s, before her eyes latched at where Parvati was staring. With an open door to the shower, Ron was lathering himself up, he watched Parvati’s eyes as he added more soap around his balls, worked the soft todger.

“Only fair as you’re not interested,” Parvati Patil said, “I mean, look at him, so gorgeous.”

Hermione understood the sentiment, this was Ron, after all, a boy she’s seen through the good times and the bad.

“Where are you getting that idea?” Hermione demanded.

“You came back just to break his heart,” Parvati Patil said, “And I thought Slytherins could be cruel.”

“I never quit!” Hermione snapped.

Ron rinsed, stepped out.

“Excuse me,” Ron said.

“Show 'em to me,” Parvati Patil said, sarcastically, “May the Quidditch Captain pee for me.”

“A little cologne,” Ron said, loudly, as he pulled out a Dungbomb.

“Alright, alright, a little romantic privacy,” Parvati Patil said as she got up, approached Ron, “If you ever change your mind, let me know.” She patted Ron’s bare buttocks before she left the dormitory.

“You just had to—” Hermione started, her eyes bearing into him.

“She jinxed the door off!” Ron stammered.

“You showed off to her!” Hermione seethed.

“I’ll shower in the middle of the fucking Great Hall!” Ron said, “I stopped caring about being seen ages ago, and you know that. I’ll meet up with you in the common room in five minutes, okay?”

Ron grabbed his bookbag, his clothes in his hands, with a towel now slung over his shoulder, and walked out of the dormitory. Hermione stood there, for a moment, her book–bag now on the bed, along with her clothes and new pair of dry panties. She dressed, went down the stairs, where Ron and Harry were snickering at the bottom.

“What?” Hermione demanded, her eyes flickered at both of the dressed boys.

“Ron suggesting you go starkers,” Harry said.

“How dare you!” Hermione held her finger at Ron.

“He’s making it up,” Ron said.

“You were fast,” Hermione said as she pointed at Harry, “Fifth year girls?”

“No, I went—you know where,” Harry said, “Shampoo just my style.”

“ _You_ go starkers,” Hermione said to Harry.

“For Snape?” Harry stammered, “No way.”

“Then we’re in agreement!” Hermione said.

Hermione led the way, out of the Gryffindor Tower, along the corridors and stairways, until they came to the Potions classroom, entered. Hermione got to their usual table first, when Ron and Harry approached. She glared at them, even as Ron began to put his book–bag down onto the table, and she shook her head, pointed away.

“Fine,” Ron muttered.

Harry pulled Ron backward, until Hermione stopped her glare, as they went to the other side of the room, though their voices carried.

“Must be that time of the month,” Ron said, a bit louder.

Hermione saw Professor Snape enter the classroom, walk swiftly over to Harry.

“You _hope_ ,” Harry said, loudly, and oblivious, “Could be a nine month—”

“Do not accuse Slytherin without proof.” Professor Snape addressed Harry before going to the front.

“It never exists to him,” Harry said loudly to Ron.

“Twenty points Potter,” Professor Snape sneered before his eyes turned to Malfoy.

Hermione, also saw it, the movement, from Malfoy, with the little bit of wet, crumbled, bit of parchment, a spitball. Malfoy threw it, and it sailed through the air toward Harry.

SPLAT!

Harry recoiled. Professor Snape’s eyes glanced at this, before he waved his wand. Chalk at the board write out the lesson, another potion to brew.

“Too bad Potter didn’t screw that mudblood out of here,” Pansy Parkinson said.

“Silence!” Professor Snape said, “Best work is a silent affair.” He turned around, closed the door to his office, and disappeared for most of the lesson.

Hermione worked, added the lacewings, until her cauldron simmered blood red, and the bell sounded.

“Samples on my desk,” Professor Snape said as he returned, his robes were bunched together.

Professor Snape’s dark eyes trained themselves onto Hermione as she filled her flask. As she walked toward the desk, she felt the fast foot, and she stumbled. Her flask crashed onto the floor and spilled its blood red contents. Harry and Ron reached Malfoy, shoved him, and he tumbled onto the floor.

“FIFTY POINTS each, Potter, Weasley, and the mudblood,” Professor Snape said, “And a detention!”

“Malfoy tripped—” Ron started to protest.

“Another fifty points each,” Professor Snape said, “Wait, I do not believe Gryffindor has that many so I award fifty to your victim, Malfoy.”

Malfoy and Parkinson had a hearty laugh as Harry led the storm out of the dungeon. Hermione followed. Harry paused at the threshold, dropped a Dungbomb back into the classroom, and locked the door.

“Bloody bollocks!” Harry exclaimed.

“Be careful,” Ron said, “That was his favorite deodorant.”

“Ta.” Harry lightly punched Ron in the forearm.

“Like that’ll solve anything,” Hermione said.

“Malfoy deliberately tripped you!” Ron said, “We’re not taking that laying down.”

“Ta,” Hermione said.

“There is something bothering me,” Ron said, “Later, enjoy lunch.”

Ron left them, went down the ground floor corridor.

* * *

Ron landed in Hermione’s bedroom, in Noigate. He ran down the corridor, down into the living room. He grabbed Floo Powder, tossed it as he stepped in.

“Weasley Wizarding Wheezes!” Ron exclaimed.

Ron spun around, came out.

“Hello?” asked Mr. Arthur Weasley, “Ronald? You’re supposed to be at Hogwarts!”

“I know Dad,” Ron said, “It’s lunch, so I slipped out, I need some advice.”

“I was about to go with your brothers to the Leaky Cauldron,” Mr. Weasley said, “Join us.”

“I’ve been banned,” Ron said.

“In our company, you should be safe,” Mr. Weasley said.

“Tall order,” Fred said.

“I think we can risk it,” George said.

They left Weasley Wizarding Wheezes , headed up Diagon Alley. Despite a few scorned looks, Ron realized that people knew Harry, but not himself when mixed in with his Dad and brothers. They entered the Leaky Cauldron. Fred and George sat at a table; Ron sat to the other side.

“One of us is in a hurry,” Mr. Arthur Weasley said to Tom, “Butterbeer for him.”

“Dad’s not buying you beer,” Fred said.

“What’s the matter?” George asked.

“It’s about Hermione,” Ron said, taking the pint.

“You gave her the ring, right?” Fred said.

“Yes, and thank you, it helped immensely yesterday,” Ron said, “Without it…without the charms, I would’ve lost her.” Ron belted up the tear, kept it from flowing, the thought of losing her filled him with pain. “It’s what happened yesterday, that’s why I need help, it’s…unnerved her.” Ron explained the day, her going missing, their discovery, and what happened.

“So, that’s what the fuss was about?” Mr. Arthur Weasley asked.

“Yes,” Ron said, “It’s just…though not technically a rape, the effects in her are the same. She’s…gone cold, or going there.”

“You have to talk to her,” Mr. Arthur Weasley said.

“I have, I am,” Ron said, “Was wondering if…” his eyes turned to Fred and George, “Know of any aides to help her…erm…overcome this? Warm back up?”

Ron ate his plate of chicken wings, his fingers coated in the sauce.

“Of all the times—I wish your mother was here,” Mr. Arthur Weasley said, “I could put you in touch with some specialists at St. Mungo’s.”

“And have this news spread?” Ron said, “Something…”

“I think I know Dad,” George said, “Fred, watch the shop. Ronald, come.”

Ron got up, followed. They turned onto Diagon Lane, down the narrow corridors.

“Sure, they cleared it out and changed the name, but did nothing about making this passable,” George said as they came to Wizard and Witches , entered.

Ron glanced around, the phallus shaped devices on display, the vulvas, and more exotic.

“Um…” Ron said, seeing the oversized hard todger on the wall, squirting out a spell from the slit, “I understand wanting to cut Dad out.”

“What were you looking for?” George asked.

“She’s leery about…contact,” Ron said, “So, need stuff for being intimate without actual contact.”

“We have plenty of things for…distant partners,” George said.

“Guess I’ll have to browse,” Ron said.

“I know, tough assignment,” George said, picking up some large beads, “Um…not these unless you like the feel of jalapenos up your arse.”

Ron took a turn, went through a door.

“Ron!” George whispered.

Inside, Ron saw the line of fireplaces, half of them with chats ongoing with the girl next to them. To the far end, Ron recognized the face in the fireplace, Professor Snape.

“Now, tell me,” the teenage witch said, “Are you feeling like that little girl?”

“No,” Professor Snape stated.

“Keep trying to imagine,” the girl said, “The scent of flowers, the magic of love potions in the air, the water, and the wine.”

Ring!

“It is nearly time for class,” Professor Snape said, “Clearly, this isn’t working.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” the girl said, “Perhaps, next time?”

“I want my money back,” Professor Snape said.

“I can offer a ten percent discount on your next call,” the girl said, “Or, if you’d prefer, a twenty percent discount on a personal consultation, assess the issue.”

“Speaking of class,” Ron said to George, “I need to get back.”

Ron left the firechat room.

* * *

“Where is he?” Hermione asked Harry. She was concerned, Ron had already missed Charms.

“Dunno,” Harry replied.

“As a refresher,” Professor McGonagall said, “What is the difference between an Animagus and a transfiguration of a witch or wizard?”

Hermione raised her hand.

“Miss. Granger,” Professor McGonagall said.

“An animagus has a permanent ability to do it at will,” Hermione said, “A transfiguration requires a wand and a charm.”

“Thank you, five points,” Professor McGonagall said, “Next—”

“Sorry I’m late,” Ron said as he entered the classroom. He sat between Harry and Hermione.

“I expect my students to be on time,” Professor McGonagall said, “Please, explain yourself.”

“In the lavatory,” Ron said.

“For a half hour?” Professor McGonagall said, “You ought to be consulting with Madam Pomfrey.”

“Fumes from Potions class,” Ron said.

Hermione figured Ron was lying, however, she didn’t want to call him out for it.

“Next time, check yourself in to the Hospital Wing if you’re in that much … distress,” Professor McGonagall said.

Ron glanced at Hermione, grinned.

“You were gone over three hours,” Harry whispered.

“Some things are more important than classes,” Ron whispered.

“Please, pay attention!” Professor McGonagall scolded.

Despite trying to listen, Hermione’s mind, though, kept drifting, it bugged her that she’s spurned Ron’s advances. She’d normally lean into him during class, but didn’t today.

…

After the bell rang, Hermione walked out of the classroom, made for the Library, entered. Ron followed. Hermione set her book bag down onto a table, glanced, saw the flesh colored Ash and his friends, Buck and Gale, sitting at a nearby table with Tina. Her eyes latched onto Ash, sitting with a book between his spread legs, his balls resting on it, the soft todger poking out on top. Creases around the shaft, in his foreskin, whose tiny opening seemed to breathe for him.

Ash’s blue eyes tracked hers, he nodded, came over to her.

“Needed something?” Ash asked, softly, before he seemed to understand. He wrapped his arms around her, hugged tight.

“Try the restricted section,” Ron suggested.

Hermione’s left hand, though, slipped between her and Ash, felt Ash’s soft testicles, and he grinned.

“You’re welcome,” Ash whispered.

Hermione felt the todger ratcheting upward, stiffening.

“Restricted section,” Ron said.

Hermione’s finger touched Ash’s foreskin, went around it, as it retracted, and exposed the glans. She felt the slit, the fulcrum right beneath, realized the only thing keeping her from drawing it in was it’d be in the library, in front of people, in front of Ron.

“Later,” Hermione promised.

“I’d like that,” Ash softly whispered.

Ash let go, his hard cock jutted outward as he returned to his table. He stood there, for a moment, as Buck, Gale, and Tina all studied it; Ash sat. Hermione glanced at Ron.

“Let’s move on,” Ron said to Hermione as he stood up, grabbed his book–bag.

“I wanted—” Hermione started.

“It’s urgent,” Ron said, “Come.”

Hermione grabbed her book–bag, followed. No sooner than they were outside the Library did Ron activate his Portkey. Hermione touched it, and they left Hogwarts.

“You just wanted to—” Hermione stammered as Ron was stripped before they landed in Gia’s bedroom, in Noigate.

“The way you’ve been acting today—” Ron started.

“Oi!” Harry said, stood there, starkers with a soft todger, “Ron, ready for Quidditch Strategy?”

“Not today,” Ron said, “Tomorrow?” His eyes latched onto Hermione’s.

“Sure,” Harry said, “You’ve got a package.”

“I need to talk with Hermione first,” Ron said, “Um, come Hermione.”

“You want me to strip, right?” Hermione asked.

“If you wish,” Ron said.

“But,” Harry said, “You’ll stand out dressed like that.”

“Harry!” Ron snapped.

“That, and you’re gorgeous,” Harry said, his hand teased his dick stiff.

Hermione rapidly stripped, felt the urgency, the memory of yesterday. She followed Ron out the door, down the steps, and outside into the overcast weather.

“Suppose we could go to your place, get you something to wear,” Ron said.

“You just got me out!” Hermione snapped.

They stopped next to a stone wall, Ron moved Hermione until her butt was against it, and his eyes focused onto hers.

“We both know what’s wrong,” Ron said, “Right?”

“Um…” Hermione muttered.

“Harry and my doppelgangers assaulted you yesterday,” Ron said, “Even though you know they weren’t us, you’re having difficulty, right?”

“You…?” Hermione started.

“I don’t know if they simply wanted to kill you, rape you, or break our trust,” Ron said, “They seemed to have accomplished the latter, and I want to stop that, right now. We’ve been friends for years, right?”

“Yes,” Hermione said.

“Lets work together to stitch up this wound, the one Madam Pomfrey can’t detect,” Ron said, “Alright?”

“Your brain cell’s busy today,” Hermione retorted.

“I read up, that’s why I skipped,” Ron said, “Yes, I’ll read a book to save you.”

Hermione smiled.

“That’s a start,” Ron said, “I think we can work with this.”

“What’s your bright idea?” Hermione asked, her eyes flickered down to the hard erection jutting outward beneath his red pubic hair.

“No sex, unless you want it,” Ron said, “I mean, that’s the biggest bit of the trust they trashed, right?”

“I suppose,” Hermione said, “I don’t know.” She admitted it to herself, she knew she had an issue, and Ron’s seemed to have been paying more attention to it than she had.

“Your little flirt with Ash kinda proved it to me,” Ron said, “That most of you is still there, that we can rebuild. Can we work together on this?”

“I suppose so,” Hermione said.

“Go no faster than you can take it, alright?” Ron said, “Don’t be afraid to push back.”

“You just want to bang,” Hermione said, her eyes returned to the hard cock, the foreskin retracted, the pink glans aimed at her.

Ron held her ring finger. “That charm protects against me too. No, I’ll wait, you’re worth the wait, because you need to learn to trust me again, even when I’m horny as heck, it won’t push onto you.”

“Good one,” Hermione said, not quite sure if Ron was utterly serious or not.

“Maybe even be intimate without being intimate,” Ron said, “A body double or two? I’ll grab Gia, and you—Ash?”

“Maybe,” Hermione smirked as she said that.

“I do appreciate you going starkers,” Ron said, “You’re just as marvelous, beautiful, inside and outside. It reminds me that we’re all that we need to be happy.”

“You’re going sentimental,” Hermione said.

“It’s what they tried robbing us of,” Ron said, “I don’t want that to happen, you’re the treasure in my life.”

“And Harry,” Hermione said.

“Him too,” Ron replied, “But just him? I’d go mad.”

Hermione snorted.

“And without you keeping us in line?” Ron said, “I couldn’t imagine that.”

“Bet you could,” Hermione said, as she could imagine all the trouble both him and Harry could get into.

Ron stretched his arms, the red armpit hair showed.

“Well, head into town or back?” Ron asked, “Or, talk to your folks about things?”

Hermione got off the wall, headed back for 26 Oak St.

“Did you order the—looked to be a dildo and a pussy?” Harry asked Ron as they entered the house.

“Um…” Ron muttered.

“You got those?” Hermione stammered.

“Kristen has it,” Harry said, “She thinks it’s Ant’s.”

“You—after—” Hermione stuttered. She ran up the stairs, into Gia’s bedroom, closed the door, laid onto the bed, and cried. A few minutes later, the door opened. “Go away!”

“It’s my bedroom,” Gia said.

“Oh, sorry,” Hermione said, glancing at her, the large breasts on her chest.

“Ron explained it,” Gia said.

“He’s a rat faced, lying—” Hermione started.

“That _set_ was meant for you and him,” Gia said, “Supposedly a matched pair after the first use, used by couples separated for whatever reason.”

“Oh,” Hermione muttered, though she could think of many reasons why Ron would get them.

Gia sat on the edge of the bed.

“Ron recognizes what’s happened to you,” Gia said, “He wants to build you back up, but he’s not sure how, except that he needs to do it slowly and cautiously, because he doesn’t wish to break you. He really does love you. We all do.”

“He doesn’t understand,” Hermione said, “They only charmed away the lice to avoid getting infested themselves.”

Gia rolled Hermione over, moved in closer, sat cross–legged. Gia’s right hand began to rub on Hermione’s right breast.

“Even if Ron doesn’t know the details you haven’t told him,” Gia said, “He understands the seriousness of it, respect him for that.”

“It’s frustrating, to be turned off by what I used to love,” Hermione said.

“Do you want to love like that again?” Gia asked.

“Yes,” Hermione replied.

“Then, lets work on it,” Gia said.

Gia moved, knelt, straddling Hermione’s midriff. Gia teased both breasts.

“Let me know when it’s too much,” Gia said.

Gia moved backward, leaned over. Her breasts rested on Hermione’s as she leaned in.

“Beautiful hair,” Gia said, her hand worked the strands, before she planted her lips onto Hermione’s.

Soothing, Hermione felt the soothing effect, the pleasantness of Gia’s lips as they kissed, a bit of relaxation passed through. Hermione reached up, her hands coaxed themselves on Gia’s breasts, felt where they pressed together onto Hermione’s, the supple and smooth skin. Soft, comforting, Hermione understood why Harry liked them, how Gia’s breasts would make anybody feel secure, wanted.

“Just relax, let the magic of the moment work its way into you,” Gia said, “I’m taking inventory.”

Gia turned around. Hermione saw the smooth, clean shaven, labia above her, the clitoris erect, as the fingers touched hers. Hermione didn’t wince as she felt the finger tip explore each flap of her labia.

“It’s beautiful,” Gia said, “You’re beautiful, though, did they have a fix for the hair?”

“Ointment,” Hermione said.

“You don’t need it,” Gia said, “But, it’s your body.”

Hermione knew Gia was inspecting, but the fingers tracing the clitoris, relaxed her. Gia had the touch, and her finger traced between the flaps, at the entrance to the vulva.

“Again,” Hermione said.

Hermione felt the relaxation, the waves, as if a hex was being lifted. A tongue touched the clitoris, the warm, the wetness, seeped into her hard point.

“More?” Gia asked.

“Yeah,” Hermione said, unconcerned now.

Gia’s fingers returned to her clitoris as the tongue moved between the flaps, licked inward. Wet, moist, the tongue wiggled, her eyes on the blackness within Gia’s vulva, as Gia cleaned hers. Further it crept in, the breath across her skin, and Hermione felt it, the first tremor. A first wave, a desire to bear down, followed by another and another; Hermione felt at ease with herself for the first time since her ordeal, that Gia’s action was alright, normal, wanted of her. Hermione’s orgasms crashed over her, kept reassuring her.

“That’s…” came Ron’s voice.

Hermione glanced at him, his hand on his hard cock, from the doorway, as it spewed out.

“You—!” Hermione snapped.

“Ron!” Gia snapped.

“I was going to ask about dinner, Kristen said—” Ron said, “Sorry, couldn’t ignore that.”

“Go!” Gia snapped, glared as Ron retreated.

“He—” Hermione said as Gia turned to sit back on the bed.

“He’s sensitive but thick,” Gia said, “He wants to be intimate, but … maybe it’s a good thing he stood back to not risk getting it on you.”

“Huh?” Hermione asked.

“He wants to be intimate, with you,” Gia said, “Maybe this—” she ran her finger along Hermione’s vulva “—is a way. Better than his idea of a tin can dildo on a string, wouldn’t you say?”

“Suppose so,” Hermione said, “You’re trying to figure this out.”

“We’re all smart, in different ways,” Gia said, “You’re book smart. Ron’s trying to keep us all together, as friends, and that’s not so bad, is it?’

“No,” Hermione said.

“So, after your incident, he watched you,” Gia said, “He noticed that you were in pain, and he’s trying to figure you out to help. That says something, it says a lot about him.”

“He said his bit,” Hermione said, as she glanced at his left–behind puddles of semen on the floor.

“So? He loves you, he made that clear,” Gia said, “Don’t you get it?”

“What?” Hermione asked.

“It’s all about _you_ ,” Gia said.

Hermione sat up, held Gia, felt the breasts, planted her face into Gia’s shoulders, and cried, let her tears out, as she understood it. Despite the depth of the loss that was taken from her, Ron was helping.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading the work so far; it's still a work in progress, crossing my fingers that I'll be able to finish it.
> 
> Discord Server: https://discord.gg/SNwE8Q8


End file.
